Friendly Enemies
by Bad Faery
Summary: On the day after the Royal Rumble, Molly and Jericho have an altercation. Molly/Y2J
1. Chapter One

"Why, if it isn't the Blessed Virgin Molly," Jericho's drawl floated down the hallway. "What miracle are you going to perform for us tonight? Perhaps you'll win a match for a change."  
  
Usually, Molly would have stuck her nose in the air and kept walking. Bullies go away if you ignore them, at least that's what her Aunt Margaret had always told her. Tonight, however, she was in no mood to roll over and play dead. She turned on her heel and stalked over to him, cocking her head in such a way that she was looking down her nose at a man six inches taller than herself.   
  
"Perhaps I'll wave my hands and turn Test into a competent wrestler. Honestly, he's the worst thing we've got, even D'Lo can beat him. Then again, you'd have to be pretty pathetic to lose to Test." She widened her eyes in mock innocence. "Oh, I *am* sorry. He eliminated *you* at the Rumble, didn't he?"  
  
Jericho's eyes narrowed, and she knew she'd struck a nerve. "I was distracted!" He took a moment to regroup, then purred. "Of course, I'll be getting my rematch later tonight. Maybe you- oh wait, you're not on Raw this week are you? It must be the best to do Heat, so relaxing that you don't have to worry about performing in front of a crowd."  
  
"I have to disagree." Molly smiled sweetly. "I think your thing- you know, getting booed by twenty thousand people every night- must do wonders for your energy level."  
  
"At least people notice when I get in the ring."  
  
"Your clothes are so loud that people in other cities can tell when you get in the ring."  
  
"You're just jealous that my clothes do such a great job exhibiting my impressive physique."  
  
"So did that towel- while you had it."  
  
"You were looking? Miss Molly, I'm shocked."  
  
"I was not impressed."  
  
Jericho opened his mouth to make another retort, only to be distracted by Christian shouting his name. He glanced over at the younger man in irritation as Molly smirked, pleased to have had the last word.   
  
Her good mood didn't last as Jericho shot her a dazzling smile and called back over his shoulder, "You must have been at a bad angle. Don't worry, I'll be glad to give you another look at the big one. All you have to do is ask."  
  
Molly rolled her eyes at his retreating back. Honestly, the man was infuriating. With all of his arrogance and snide remarks it was a wonder he had any friends. He was the most self- centered, egotistical man she ever met. He made fun of her clothes, her matches. He... hadn't said a word about her ass, she realized suddenly. The first target everyone shot at, he ignored.  
  
Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. 


	2. Chapter Two

She watched the monitor expressionlessly as Stacy was loaded onto the gurney and whisked out of the arena. Somewhere behind her, Trish was sobbing noisily, inviting a group of men, including Molly's own former partner, to swarm around her offering comfort.  
  
Nobody seemed to have noticed that Stacy didn't have a bruise or a drop of blood on her.  
  
She almost admired Stacy. This little stunt was guaranteed to attract even more attention for her favorite client. Perhaps she'd fake amnesia to keep the crowd wrapped up in the story of her recovery. That or she'd record some overdramatic video appearances with her sitting in bed looking fragile as she selflessly urged Test on. Oh yes, live TV where anything can happen as long as it's painfully predictable.  
  
Molly shook her head and wandered out of the locker room, seeking to escape from Trish's histrionics. Rounding the first corner she ran smack into her new least favorite person.   
  
Catching her balance quickly, she glanced up at Jericho, preparing a response for the insult she knew was coming. Instead of making a snarky comment, he simply stared at her in dazed horror. At that moment Molly would have staked money that he didn't even know who she was.  
  
"You okay, Jericho?" she asked before she could stop herself.   
  
He continued to look at her blankly for so long that Molly was tempted to slap him, just to wake him up. Plus it would be fun. Just before she worked up the nerve to do so, he shook his head slightly and murmured, "I... I didn't mean to. She just..."  
  
Of course, precious Stacy was hurt and he was upset. "... totally faked it?" she finished the sentence for him in annoyance.  
  
Jericho looked at her in shock. "What'd you say?"  
  
"Don't you pay attention to your own matches? You hit the ring post and her shoulder. She's fine."  
  
He shook his head. "She wasn't... she didn't move, after it happened. I didn't mean to really *hurt* anyone..."  
  
"You *didn't* hurt her." Molly wondered why she taking the trouble to make him feel better. "She stayed down to end the match because her boyfriend was losing. It made you look bad and them look good."  
  
"Are you sure?" Jericho looked a lot calmer now, but also more suspicious.  
  
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes again; it was becoming a bad habit. "Trust me, I saw the whole thing on the monitor backstage."  
  
He nodded slowly, evidently making some kind of decision. Then, without warning, he grabbed her wrist and began dragging her out of the arena.  
  
"What are you *doing*?" Molly squawked, trying to pull away.  
  
Jericho didn't break stride. "We're going to go check it out."  
  
"I can walk, you know. Unless you *want* to break my wrist."  
  
Freezing in place, he readjusted his grip so that he had her by the hand. "Better?" Not waiting for an answer, he set off again.  
  
Molly allowed him to drag her through the endless hallways that led to the production truck parked in the lot outside. Jericho pulled her up the stairs and slammed into the work area without bothering to knock. "Give me the video of my match tonight," he demanded peremptorily.  
  
Five of the six technicians ignored him, the other just looked terrified. Molly leaned around Jericho and gave the scared technician her brightest smile. "Please."  
  
The man nodded quickly and produced the tape. With it in hand, Jericho set off again, hauling her after him. Molly tossed a quick "thank you" over her shoulder as he pulled her back out into the night.  
  
Before she knew what was happening, they were standing in front of the VCR in Bischoff's office. The man was nowhere to be seen, which was probably for the best. Jericho was important enough not to get into much trouble, but she'd get nailed for trespassing on his space.  
  
It didn't take Jericho long to find the correct place on the tape. He hit the slow motion button and stood back to watch. Molly divided her attention between the TV screen and his face, noting the way he flinched slightly when his image started to swing the chair at Test.  
  
They watched the sequence through to the end, then Jericho switched it off without a word. He stared at the blank screen for a minute, then breathed, "I'll be damned. You're right."  
  
"You don't have to sound so surprised about it."  
  
Jericho ignored her irritated interjection, lost in his own thoughts. "I really thought I hurt her. She made me feel like a bastard because I hit someone who wasn't involved." His voice was gradually gaining in intensity. "That bitch! What kind of a trick is that to play?"  
  
Molly wondered if she was free to leave yet. He seemed to be pretty much done with her, but he hadn't loosened his grip on her hand.   
  
"We'll get them for this. Next week, we'll get them."  
  
"We?" Where had that come from? Since when were they a team?  
  
He nodded, not seeming to notice her surprise. "You and me against Test and Stacy. Intergender, not mixed tag. I want a shot at her."  
  
"So you're putting me against Test?" Somehow, this didn't seem quite fair.  
  
"Not a problem," he said dismissively. "You know what they call you."  
  
They called her fat ass but she didn't see how that was relevant. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You know- Molly Holly is the female Benoit," he said to her surprise. "You can take Test. Hell, you said it yourself, he's the bottom of the barrel anyway."  
  
He was. And she probably could. However, she resented his assumption that she'd drop everything to help him out. She had matches of her own to worry about! Next week she... was facing Jackie on Heat again. "I can do that." It's an upper-midcard match, she reminded herself, justifying her compliance.  
  
Jericho seemed to take her agreement for granted. "Fine. I'll set it up with Bischoff."  
  
Molly nodded. "Fine." Jericho didn't say anything else, but he still hadn't released her. "Can I go?" she asked sharply, trying to tug her hand free.  
  
He looked down at their clasped hands in surprise, then let her go. "Yeah, you can go." Somehow, the words didn't sound as much like a dismissal as she would have expected. "I'll see you next week."  
  
"Right." Molly left the room without looking back. If she had, she would have been taken aback to see Jericho staring in puzzlement at the hand he had locked around hers. 


	3. Chapter Three

Molly smirked to herself at the confused rumbling that swept through the crowd as she accompanied Jericho to the ring. Even the whole Mighty Molly fiasco hadn't gotten this much attention. She swept her eyes over the signs as he posed for the crowds. "Only Ass Clowns Hit Women," obviously this guy hadn't bothered to check the replay.   
  
In the ring, Stacy was holding her head dramatically as Test kept a protective arm around her. Molly wondered how they were going to play this. She assumed that Test would do his best to keep her out of the fight. Well, they'd just have to see about that.  
  
The bell rang as Jericho slipped through the ropes. The only preparation they'd put into this partnership was the terse "I'll start" "Fine" they'd exchanged while waiting for their cue. If nothing else, this should be interesting.  
  
Test and Jericho started off by trading arm locks. Molly examined their expressions. Test was furious and fighting with revenge on his mind. That would make him dangerous to start but he'd wear down faster. Jericho, on the other hand, looked perfectly calm. He was biding his time until he could get his shot at Stacy.   
  
Test threw him into the corner and unleashed a series of vicious chops on his chest. The crowd seemed to approve, cheering wildly every time Jericho got hit. Next, Test tried for a belly to belly suplex, which Jericho quickly countered into an armdrag takedown. Once Test was on the mat, Jericho held out a hand to tag Molly in.  
  
He held Test for her as Molly dropkicked him from the top rope, knocking the air out of him. While he lurched to his feet and tried to regain his breath, she hit him with a swinging neckbreaker. Confident that he was down for the count, Molly cartwheeled to her corner and tagged Jericho back in. As he went to work again on Test, she checked to see what Stacy was doing. The leggy blond had forgotten to maintain the pretense of being injured and was sneaking along the apron, trying to get close enough to distract Jericho.  
  
Seizing her opportunity, Molly made her way to the other side of the ring, grabbed Stacy's ankles and sent her sprawling to the floor. She got in a couple of kicks before the referee ordered both of them back to their own corners. Stacy retreated quickly, climbing back onto the apron. Molly feigned obedience until the referee turned his attention back to the match. She then snuck around behind Stacy and waited for her chance.  
  
Seconds later, Jericho threw Test into his own corner. At the same moment, Molly shoved Stacy, so that her hand unwittingly collided with Test's back. The referee acknowledged the tag, and Jericho grinned evilly as he pulled Stacy into the ring.  
  
Fortunately, Test was dazed enough that he didn't put up much of a fight as Molly yanked him out onto the floor. As soon as he hit the ground, he realized what was going on and clotheslined her hard in an effort to get back to his girlfriend. Molly's head slammed onto the concrete floor, making her dizzy. Now it was personal. She kicked the big Canadian's legs out from underneath him and drove her knees into his kneecap. If he couldn't get up, he wasn't a threat. She was repeating the maneuver when she heard the bell ring.  
  
Glancing up, she saw Stacy locked in the Walls of Jericho as the referee tried to get Jericho to break the hold. Stacy continued to tap frantically until he finally released her, holding his arms up in his patented "King of the World" pose. He left the ring, ignoring the crowd's screams of disapproval. Grabbing Molly's hand, he lifted it high in a gesture of shared triumph.   
  
She staggered after him as he propelled her up the ramp and backstage. "What happened?"  
  
Jericho smiled. "Slapped her around a little and made her tap. She won't be pulling a stunt like that again anytime soon. You?"  
  
Molly rubbed the back of her head. "Kicked Test around a little."  
  
His eyes narrowed. "What happened to you?"  
  
"He clotheslined me, and I hit my head." Molly blinked at his apparent concern. "I'm fine."  
  
"On the floor?"  
  
She shrugged. "Yeah."  
  
Jericho grabbed her jaw and forcibly tilted her face up to his. Molly flinched back instinctively, then settled down when he did nothing more than look into her eyes. "What?" she tried to ask, but it came out garbled since he had her face basically immobilized.  
  
He ignored her, continuing to stare. After a minute, he released her and stepped back. "You've got a concussion."  
  
That explained why she was still woozy. "It's minor," she protested. "I'm just a little dizzy."  
  
"Get the trainer to check you out."  
  
"Chris, I'm fine!" Her protest was cut short when she realized she'd used his first name.  
  
The slip didn't seem to have registered with him. He took her by the arm and began walking her to the trainer's room. "Come on."  
  
"Will you quit hauling me around like I'm... a thing to be hauled." Her irritation at his highhandedness had left her inarticulate. That or she'd hit her head worse than she thought.  
  
Jericho kept walking. "If it wasn't for your mule-like stubbornness, I wouldn't have to."  
  
"Did it ever occur to you to ask nicely?"  
  
"No."  
  
That seemed to put an end to the conversation. He opened the door for her more out of necessity than good manners and shoved her at the nearest trainer. "She's got a concussion. Take care of it."  
  
The man looked up in surprise. "How-"  
  
"I said take care of it," Jericho snapped and walked out of the room.  
  
Molly shook her head after him in disbelief. What in the name of all that was holy was going on here? First he insulted her, then he wanted her to be his partner, then he was taking care of her, now he was abandoning her. The whole situation was bizarre in the extreme. She signed and turned her attention to the trainer. Hopefully now the whole matter was settled, and they could go back to ignoring each other. 


	4. Chapter Four

Molly shifted her weight from foot to foot impatiently as Stacy made her way to the ring, Test trailing in her wake. A rematch. Revenge for last week. She sighed. She'd almost prefer to be back on Heat with Jackie rather than this. At least with Jackie she didn't have to worry about getting her nose broken because her opponent blew a spot. Stacy was eye candy, not a wrestler. To throw her in the ring with Molly was just insulting.  
  
As Stacy blew kisses to the crowd, Molly lost patience and clotheslined her, knocking her flat. She smiled grimly as Stacy whimpered. That'd teach Test to mess with her. She grabbed Stacy by the hair, yanking her back to her feet just so she could have the pleasure of knocking her down again. This time, she did it with a snap suplex.   
  
Stacy kicked at her ineffectually, and Molly dodged her flailing limbs. She allowed the other woman time to get back up, then Irish whipped her into the corner. As she was judging the distance for her handspring back elbow, she felt strong arms go around her waist. Before she could react, Test hurled her into the ring post.   
  
Molly's breath left her in a whoosh. As she tried to get it back, Test backhanded her viciously, then grabbed her and lifted her above his head for a backbreaker. He brought her crashing down before she could even brace herself for the impact.   
  
Perhaps if she played dead, he'd leave her alone. Molly didn't think she had enough strength left to do anything else. Besides, the referee had already rung the bell to disqualify Stacy so she didn't even have a match on the line. Her theory failed her when Test grabbed a handful of her hair, trying to pull her back up.  
  
Suddenly, he released her, and Molly caught a glimpse of sparkly red flash past her to land on Test. Jericho slammed his fist into the larger man's face over and over again as the referee rang the bell desperately. Stacy clawed at his back, screaming, trying to get him off of her boyfriend. Jericho stood and shoved her away, glaring down at Test. He smoothed his hair back, then walked over to Molly. Not bothering to ask if she could walk, he simply scooped her up and carried her up the ramp.   
  
Once they were backstage, Molly pushed weakly against his chest. She wasn't some fragile, helpless thing to be coddled, and Jericho certainly wasn't her knight in shining armor. "Put me down."  
  
"Shut up." His voice was clipped, leaving no room for argument.  
  
Molly argued anyway. "I'm fine. I can walk."  
  
"I said shut up."   
  
With a frustrated sigh, she subsided. Jericho was actually vibrating with rage, she noticed. The arms that cradled her were shaking. Perhaps it would be wiser not to antagonize him.  
  
He kicked the door of the trainer's room open, depositing her on one of the tables. The same man who'd helped her last week approached her again, looking suspiciously at Jericho. Molly had to stifle a laugh as she realized what he was thinking. She caught his eye and shook her head, murmuring, "It's okay, he's not beating me up."  
  
Fortunately, Jericho seemed to have missed the entire exchange. He was busy pacing the length of the room, ranting under his breath. Molly could only catch a few words out of each sentence, but considering the language he was using, she wasn't sorry. After a few minutes of this, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.  
  
By the time the trainer was finished examining her, he was back. The man handed her an ice pack and scuttled out of the room. Molly didn't blame him.   
  
Jericho hovered in front of her with a vaguely murderous expression on his face. "I've got Test at No Way Out," he said without preamble. "You and Stacy are barred from ringside."  
  
"Like I'm getting involved again," she muttered.  
  
He continued like she hadn't spoken. "It's a street fight. What'd he say?"  
  
The rapid change of subject made her blink. "Who?"  
  
Jericho jerked his head at the door the trainer had disappeared through. Molly huffed in irritation. "The same thing I said. I'm fine, just bruised."  
  
"So what's that for?" He indicated the ice pack.  
  
"Because I'm bruised!" she shrieked, at the end of her patience. "Because he hit me in the face! What is the matter with you?"  
  
"You know, I saved your ass out there. You could thank me."  
  
Molly lost it. Throwing the ice pack at him, she screamed, "It's your fault I needed saved in the first place! You arrogant bastard! I *knew* I shouldn't have said anything to you! Then maybe-"  
  
He grabbed her shoulders, bringing his face so close to hers that their noses touched. Molly froze. 'He's going to kill me.'  
  
Jericho did nothing but stare into her eyes for a long moment. She tried to shrink away from him, but his grip was unbreakable. Finally he said in a deceptively calm voice, "Don't ever call me that again."  
  
"What should I call you?" Her mouth seemed to be operating of its own volition, because her brain was telling her to shut the hell up. "Prick? Ass clown? You like that one, don't you? How about King of the Losers? Asshole? Dickhead?"  
  
His hands tightened on her shoulders, but to her surprise he didn't throttle her. "Where'd you learn words like that?"  
  
"I have boy cousins. I learned a lot." Like how to throw a punch. If he'd just back up enough to let her breathe, she'd be happy to demonstrate.  
  
Jericho raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?" he breathed. "How about this?" In the next instant, his mouth was on hers, taking advantage of her gasp of outrage to thrust his tongue into her mouth. The kiss was fast and hard, and it was over before she regained enough sense to try and bite his tongue.  
  
Looking at her intently, he released her shoulders and stepped back. "Last week you called me Chris." He advised, "I suggest you stick with that."  
  
Molly could do no more than gape after him in shock as he breezed out of the room. The nerve of him! He... He... He was a damn good kisser. She collapsed backwards with a groan of despair. "Oh no, no, no. Oh fuck no..." She groaned again as she realized she'd actually said the F word. He was already a bad influence on her. 


	5. Chapter Five

The next week, Molly found herself in front of the monitor again, this time watching Jericho and Christian go against Booker T and Goldust. As far as she could tell, there was no point to this match, but Bischoff had made it anyway. 'And they wonder why we don't get ratings anymore.'  
  
Goldust low blowed Christian while the referee's back was turned, then covered him for the win. The crowd went wild for the unlikely duo, and as they posed, Jericho stormed into the ring to retrieve his erstwhile partner. He was not happy.  
  
As Jericho hauled Christian to his feet, Test came sprinting down the ramp, steel chair in hand. Jericho didn't even have time to get his hands up before Test slammed him in the head. He took out Christian with the next shot, leaving both men helpless on the ramp.  
  
Even as she ran for the entranceway, Molly was debating whether or not she was actually going to help. After last week, it would certainly serve him right if she left him at Test's mercy. Then again he *had* saved her from the same fate. When she passed a frying pan laying on one of the props tables, she knew the decision had been made for her.  
  
Test was so busy threatening Jericho with the chair, that he never saw Molly race up behind him. She brought her favorite weapon down with a hard crack across the back of his head, sending him sprawling. "How do *you* like it?!" she shouted, even as she turned on her heel to hit Stacy in the stomach. Molly didn't think that she'd hit her all that hard but Stacy went down and stayed down, obviously deciding that in this case discretion was indeed the better part of valor.  
  
Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she pivoted, raising the frying pan high. When she realized that it was just Jericho regaining his feet, she thought about it for a moment, then lowered the weapon. He gave her a wry look, noticing her hesitation, then threw Christian over his shoulder. He grabbed Molly by the hand as he passed her, and the trio beat a quick retreat before Test got back up.  
  
"The fuck happened?" Christian moaned as Jericho deposited him in their locker room. He sat halfway up, trying to focus on his surroundings.   
  
"We lost the match." Jericho let this stand as a full explanation as Christian dropped back down with a groan. Shaking his head in exasperation, he looked at Molly. "I don't know why I bother keeping him around."  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe it's because he's the only person who actually likes you," she suggested snidely.  
  
Jericho gave her a perfectly bland look. "Maybe."  
  
Realizing that with Christian down for the count, she and Jericho were more or less alone together, Molly began to back towards the door. "I guess we're even now, so I'll just be-"  
  
He cut her off, "Aren't you going to give me a chance to say thank you?"  
  
Molly continued backing up as Jericho began advancing towards her. "That's really not necessary. I-" Her voice died away as she collided with the door.  
  
"Oh I insist." Jericho's mild tone was completely at odds with the predatory expression on his face. He was only millimeters away from her now, trapping her between his body and the door.  
  
Molly fumbled at the doorknob, trying to free herself from a situation that had suddenly become very, very dangerous. The door didn't move and she closed her eyes in despair as she remembered that it opened inward. Unless he decided to let her go, she was stuck. Sneaking a look up at Jericho, she decided that he didn't look too interested in letting her go.  
  
"I think... I think Terri was looking for you earlier," she managed to choke out of a suddenly dry mouth. "Maybe if you hurry, you could-" Good God, was her heart *supposed* to be beating this fast?  
  
"I'm not into blondes," Jericho overrode her. "Or into women who are more than fifty percent plastic." He ran his hands slowly down her arms, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. Capturing her hands in his, he brought them closer to her body, removing any possibility of escape.  
  
"That..." Molly struggled to remember what they were talking about. "Doesn't leave you too many options around here."  
  
Jericho lifted her hands to his lips, kissing each in turn. "I don't know," he murmured seductively. "I've got a few..."  
  
Sanity suddenly returned to Molly. Was that all she was? An *option*? His mouth came down on hers urgently, but the kiss barely registered through her dawning fury. Which "option" would he go for once he got tired of her? Lita, maybe? Or Stephanie? Maybe he'd already exercised those options and she was the last one he had to conquer.  
  
Convincing herself that she was being taken advantage of, Molly began to struggle in his arms. Unfortunately, Jericho was holding her too closely for it to be terribly effective. He simply grunted with pleasure at her movement and deepened the kiss. Molly's growl of frustration was muffled in his mouth, and a new idea presented itself to her.  
  
After all, he hadn't quite managed to pin *all* of her limbs.  
  
She brought her right knee up sharply, doing to Jericho what Goldust had just done to Christian. He went down with gratifying speed, the look on his face more of shock than of pain. Molly shoved him out of her way, finally opening the door.  
  
"You're welcome," she said drily and made her escape. 


	6. Chapter Six

Molly leaned back against the wall outside Victoria's dressing room and tried to read a book. The constant screams and groans coming from inside made it difficult to concentrate but she really didn't have anywhere else to go. If she'd had her way, she wouldn't be at No Way Out at all, but Victoria had begged her to come along to provide moral support before her match with Trish. Of course, now that she was here, Victoria seemed to be getting plenty of support from the Steven Richards "pep talk" that had been going on for what seemed like hours.  
  
Even the unearthly noises coming from the locker room couldn't quite drown out the audio feed of the show that was being piped through the hallways. When she heard Chris Jericho's music start, she couldn't help but wish that the pair would get a little louder. She really didn't want to think about him right now. Then again, after what she did to him last week, he probably didn't want to think about her either.  
  
"Hey Molly."  
  
This was not exactly the distraction she'd been hoping for. "Hello Stacy," she sighed, not looking up from her book.  
  
"You know, once Test gets finished beating your little boyfriend into the ground, he's going to come straight after you," the other woman informed her helpfully.  
  
Molly stifled the impulse to deny that she and Jericho were a couple. Stacy wouldn't believe her anyway, and she didn't really want to talk to the bimbo any longer than necessary. "Thank you for the warning, Stacy."  
  
Furious at being dismissed, Stacy shrieked, "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"   
  
Before Molly had a chance to do anything, a fist smashed into her nose, knocking her head back into the wall. 'Great, another concussion,' was her first thought, before she registered the trickle of blood running over her lip. Outraged, she lunged for Stacy.  
  
The blonde smacked her smartly in the chest with a frying pan. "Look familiar?" she asked tauntingly as Molly struggled for breath.  
  
It was going to take a lot more than a frying pan to intimidate Molly. "Afraid to fight me barehanded?"   
  
Stacy swung again. "Why should I when I've got this?"  
  
Molly ducked and hit Stacy's wrist squarely as it passed over her head. Her grip faltered and the frying pan went sailing down the hall. "Got what?"  
  
"You fat assed bitch!" Molly sidestepped quickly as Stacy flung herself at her, and the other woman landed hard on the concrete floor.  
  
Assuming that Stacy had realized the stupidity of trying to kill her, Molly snarked, "Of course! We're fighting because I'm *fat*! Now why didn't I think of that? I bet if I lost some weight you and I would be best friends forever and ever." She rolled her eyes and began walking away from the prone woman.  
  
Stacy, evidently beyond reason, lunged for her again. This time she managed to bring an arm down across the back of Molly's neck, and the fight was on.  
  
The two women exchanged blows down the length of the hallway. Molly's superior speed and technical abilities were inhibited by Stacy's longer reach and the small size of the area they were fighting in. She didn't have nearly as much room to evade as she would in the ring and therefore, Stacy was landing more punches and kicks than Molly had imagined her capable of.   
  
She allowed herself to be forced backwards down another corridor, hoping to wind up in an area large enough to let her defend herself. She realized her mistake when she stumbled back against a heavy black curtain. 'We're almost to the top of the ramp.'  
  
"Stacy, knock it off!" Molly shouted. "We're gonna end up on the house floor!"  
  
Either not understanding or not caring, Stacy took advantage of Molly's distraction to kick her hard in the side of the head. Molly staggered backwards, wincing as the bright arena lights hit her eyes. 'Oh shit...'  
  
"That's Molly Holly!" JR's voice boomed over the PA system.   
  
"And Stacy Keibler!" Lawler shrieked. "Hi Stacy!"  
  
"These two ladies are barred from ringside, but here they are!"  
  
Molly caught her balance and tried to work her way back up the ramp, determined to get no closer to the ring. She managed one step before another kick from Stacy sent her flying backwards. She collided with something on her way down. 'Oh God.' Instantly she realized that she'd brought one of the men down with her, even as something swung over her head, barely missing her.  
  
Landing hard, Molly kept her eyes closed for as long as she could. 'This is not happening...' The sound of the bell ringing forced her into a sitting position, and she gingerly opened her eyes, hoping for the best.  
  
Jericho was sprawled on the steel ramp several feet away, staring at her incredulously. Moving in what felt like slow motion, she turned her head to see Test looking down at her, a baseball bat hanging loosely in his grasp. Behind him, Stacy had her hands in the air and a triumphant smile on her face.  
  
Time snapped back into place as JR's voice reached her. "And Molly saved Jericho from a shot with that baseball bat, but she just cost him the match!"  
  
"God, look at the blood on her face!" Lawler added cheerfully. "Stacy must've did a number on her! Hi Stacy!"  
  
Jericho got slowly to his feet, never taking his eyes off of her. With an effort, Molly managed to close her mouth and stop gaping at the turn of events. Jericho hovered over her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then a muscle in his jaw twitched and he turned on his heel, leaving her lying on the ramp as he exited. 


	7. Chapter Seven

"Since you four can't seem to stay away from each other, you've got a match tonight. Intergender, no DQ." Bischoff oozed with false sweetness. "Have a blast, guys."  
  
The words rang in Molly's head as she made her way to the top of the ramp. 'Have a blast.' Indeed. Bastard.  
  
Jericho was already waiting when she arrived. He didn't spare her a glance until she was next to him. Then he gave her black and white attire a look a disgust and rolled his eyes. "Do you *have* to wear that?"  
  
Staring straight ahead, she asked, "What's wrong with it?"  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Jericho's look of disbelief. "Fuck it," he said dismissively. "Let's just get this over with. For good this time."  
  
"Oh, and I thought you were enjoying this little feud," Molly drawled, beginning to feel uneasy. Even when they'd hated each other, he'd shown her more warmth than this.  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
The harsh tone of his voice made her flinch. "Look, I'm sorry about last night." She tried to explain, "Stacy kicked me into you. I wouldn't have interfered-"  
  
"Forget it!" he snapped. Then he continued in a defeated tone, "Just forget it. I can take a hint, all right?"  
  
If that was the way he wanted it, then fine. Molly had no idea what he meant by that and at the moment, she didn't much care. "Whatever."   
  
When his music hit, Jericho stalked down to the ring with none of his usual showboating. Molly followed closely behind him, every bit as eager to put an end to this mess as he was.  
  
Once again, Jericho started the match, locking up with Test as Stacy pounded on the mat to get the crowd clapping. The other woman was in no position to be tagged in, and Molly realized that Test had no intentions of letting her in the match. Molly had to give him full marks for protectiveness, but it was still a little annoying. She would have liked to get another shot at the blonde, to pay her back for last night.  
  
Jericho DDTed Test, then allowed the larger man to get to his feet. He staggered around near Molly's side of the ring, in a perfect position for the Molly-Go-Round. She caught Jericho's eye and held out her hand eagerly, wanting the tag.   
  
He looked at her for a moment, then deliberately turned his back, elbowing Test in the head and going for the Lionsault. Outraged at this dismissal, Molly was almost glad when Test got his knees up, blocking the move. Jericho collapsed, clutching his ribs, and Stacy took advantage of his distraction to toss Test a chair.  
  
Half tempted to simply watch him use it on Jericho, Molly instead climbed to the top of the ropes and drop-kicked the chair. The metal made a satisfying clanking noise as it bounced off of Test's head, and Stacy shrieked in frustration. Molly kept moving, opting to let Jericho win or lose the match on his own. She busied herself with Stacy, knocking the blonde out onto the floor.  
  
Not giving her a chance to get up, Molly locked her in a sleeper hold, wanting to get a few points across. "This feud is over," she hissed in Stacy's ear. "You can't beat me, and I'm sick of kicking you around. Keep going after Jericho, I don't care, but leave me out of it."  
  
The other woman struggled, and Molly tightened her grip. "Remember what Victoria did to you? I bet your fingernails still haven't grown back."  
  
Stacy whimpered, clearly reliving the memory. Molly smiled, "Who do you think taught her that trick?"  
  
Confident that her point had been made, she continued, "I've got plenty more dirty little tricks up my sleeve. Now do we understand each other?"  
  
She loosened the hold enough to let Stacy talk. "Yes."  
  
"What are you going to do?" Molly prompted.  
  
"Leave you alone."  
  
"And Test?"  
  
"He'll leave you alone too."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you'll hurt me."  
  
"Damn straight." Molly let her go and stood up. "Good answers Stacy. If I were you, I would remember them."  
  
She left the blonde lying in a heap and made her way back to her own corner. It didn't seem like she'd missed much. Jericho and Test continued to trade blows until Jericho got him down on the mat long enough to actually land the Lionsault. The referee counted the one-two-three and signaled for the bell.   
  
Jericho yanked his arm out of the referee's grasp and stormed back up the ramp without waiting for Molly. She followed him out, hoping that she didn't look too much like an obedient puppy following her master.   
  
Once they got beyond the curtain that separated backstage from the arena floor, Jericho turned abruptly and marched down the left hand corridor. Molly stared after him for a moment, then headed for her dressing room on the right. Every step took her farther away from Jericho and it was suddenly hard to breathe through the tightness in her chest. Eyes stinging, she blinked impatiently, not knowing why she felt as though something very important had been lost. 


	8. Chapter Eight

"Hi Molly..."  
  
Molly managed a smile for Steven Richards. The lascivious looks he'd been giving her lately made her a little uncomfortable, but he was Victoria's boyfriend. And Victoria was pretty much the only friend she had left. "Hi Steve."  
  
She moved to continue on her way down the corridor when Richards stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "You look very pretty tonight," he purred, running his gaze over her body.  
  
Resisting the urge to cross her arms in front of her, Molly flashed another fake smile. "Thank you."  
  
Richards stepped closer and stretched out a hand to touch her hair. "Very pretty..."  
  
"Yes, thank you." Molly was starting to get impatient. "I'm sorry, Steve, but I really have to go."  
  
In response, he draped his arms around her, holding her loosely to his chest. "Go? What's your hurry? You don't have a match tonight, do you?"  
  
Wonderful. This was exactly what she was in the mood for tonight. After the events of last week, she didn't even want to think about men. She tried to take a step back, inwardly groaning when he pulled her closer. Molly huffed in annoyance. She'd been dealing with men like Richards since she was thirteen but it never got any less demeaning. However, if she wanted to keep her friendship with Victoria, she'd better maintain peace all around. Taking a deep breath, she smiled sweetly and offered, "I'm very flattered Steve. I really am. But I just wouldn't feel right about this, since you're dating my best friend."  
  
Richards showed an unexpected flash of temper at that. Fisting his hand in her hair, he jerked her head back so he could look at her more closely. "I won't tell if you won't," he said brightly, leaning down to kiss her.  
  
'Look, Steve-"  
  
She didn't have time to get the rest of the words out. Appearing out of nowhere, Jericho ripped Richards off of her and slammed him into the wall. "I believe the lady said no," he pointed out in a controlled voice.  
  
"Not your business," Steven muttered, struggling against him.  
  
Jericho raised his hands and took a step back, eyes wide with innocence. "Oh, of course. I'll leave you to it then." When Richards stepped forward, Jericho raised an elbow and slammed it brutally into his collarbone. Richards went down in a heap, gasping in pain. "She is my business," Jericho snapped.  
  
So much for handling things calmly. "Chris, I was taking care of it!" Molly said in exasperation.  
  
"Oh really?" he asked in a dangerous tone.  
  
She didn't pick up on it. "Yes! I don't know why you had to barge in here and-"  
  
"Do this?" Jericho threw Molly over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and set off down the hall with her.  
  
"And now we're back to the hauling," she complained, somehow beyond being surprised by anything he did.  
  
Jericho made a few turns, finally locating an empty room that looked like it had once been used for storage. Now it stood empty save for a few folding chairs leaning against one of the walls. Jericho grabbed one of the chairs, set it up, and simply dumped Molly into it.  
  
She was on her feet instantly. "I can't believe you did that! Now what-"  
  
Jericho cut her off. "What the *fuck* is wrong with you?" he snarled, advancing on her. "Were you just going to stand there and let him molest you?"  
  
Molly's jaw dropped, and she backed away. "I was going to do no such-"  
  
"Hell, you looked like you were enjoying it! Is that it? You get off on not having a choice? You like playing rough?" Jericho's voice lowered as he stalked her. "Maybe that kick you gave me was foreplay. And here I thought you were just playing hard to get..."  
  
She held her hands up in a protective gesture. "Chris... stop." For the first time in her life, she was honestly beginning to be frightened of him.  
  
Still closing in on her, Jericho continued, "Hey, if that's what you like..."   
  
Molly squeaked as he grabbed her. Shoving hard against his chest, she tried to break away but his grip was too strong. His mouth descended on her neck, sucking and biting ravenously. Nerve endings electrified, Molly stopped fighting him. Without really knowing what she was doing, she slid her fingers into his hair, holding him in place.  
  
He grabbed her by the waist and propelled her across the room until her back collided with the wall. Using his weight to keep her pinned, he tore his mouth away from her throat and grinned. "I think this is where we left off." His face darkened as he muttered, "You can call me Steven, if it helps." Then his lips were on hers and Molly could do nothing more than moan at the sensations he was awakening within her.  
  
She soon gave up on trying to participate in the kiss. Jericho was plundering her, seeking out every hidden crevice, and she was enjoying every second of it. When he flicked his tongue teasingly against the roof of her mouth, Molly made a choked sound and arched against him instinctively. Her movement made Jericho groan and he thrust his hips against her, his erection pressing hard against her stomach.  
  
Molly gasped at this visceral proof of his desire for her. With a hand that trembled, she stroked the side of his face, trying to gentle their pace. Jericho turned his head with a harsh groan, biting at her fingers. As he sucked them into his mouth, Molly whimpered. So much for gentleness.  
  
Releasing her fingers, he lifted a hand to her breast, squeezing her through layers of fabric. The touch made them both moan, and Molly threw her head back in pleasure, her wide eyes taking in the hungry expression on his face.  
  
"Tell me you want me," he ground out, plucking at her nipple.  
  
The sensation made her want to scream, but something inside Molly wouldn't let her say the words. She couldn't give him that much power over her. Instead she whimpered and arched her body against his.  
  
Jericho brought his mouth down on hers again, punishing her for her silence with another brutal kiss. Falling to his knees in front of her, he placed his hands on the neckline of her white top. He looked into her eyes challengingly as in a single violent movement he ripped the front of her shirt completely open.  
  
Molly's knees went weak as his mouth went to her breast, sucking and nibbling her through her bra. She dropped to the floor next to him, her arms going around his neck to keep herself at least somewhat vertical. "Oh God, Chris..."  
  
He raised his head and looked at her triumphantly. "Tell me you want me."  
  
More than anything in the world, Molly wanted him, but she still couldn't bring herself to say the words. She covered his mouth with her own desperately, hoping that he would allow her actions to speak for her.  
  
Jericho responded to the kiss for a long moment, then wrenched her away from him, holding her at arm's length. "Say it," he snarled.  
  
Trying to catch her breath, Molly simply looked at him. He was breathing heavily, his skin flushed a dull red. She wondered if his heart was pounding as much as hers was. Displeased with her continued silence, he shook her slightly, "Say it, Molly. Tell me you want me."  
  
"I..." she gasped out. "Chris, I..."  
  
He stared at her intently, obviously prepared to wait until she got the words out.  
  
"I can't," she whispered painfully. "Chris, please..."  
  
Jericho closed his eyes with a sigh. Pulling her tight against him, he simply held her for a few minutes. "You want me," he murmured finally, tilting her head back so he could look at her.   
  
Molly stared at him mutely as he released her and got shakily to his feet. "You know where to find me," he said tightly. "Let me know when you can admit it to yourself."  
  
He left her there without another word. Molly closed her eyes as the door clicked shut behind him, trying to fight back tears. "I want you," she whispered softly to the empty room. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Later that night, Molly stood in front of the full length mirror in her hotel bathroom. She'd never been the kind of woman who stopped traffic, but she wasn't hideous, was she? Chris had wanted her, no man could fake a response like that, even if he had walked away.   
  
He wasn't what she would ever have chosen for herself. He was too arrogant, too forceful, too dangerous. Spike and Greg had been safe; Chris Jericho was anything but. When she was with him, her emotions overwhelmed her. He made her feel things, want things that she'd never experienced before. It was almost as exciting as it was terrifying.  
  
She'd played it safe her whole life, attaching herself to men she knew would never inspire her to feel anything intense. Now, with Jericho, she was sorely out of her depth.  
  
She couldn't imagine that he loved her. Until five weeks ago, they'd never exchanged a kind word. Yet he obviously wanted her, and wanted her for something more than just sex, otherwise he would've simply taken her on the floor in that room. Heaven knew she wouldn't have stopped him.  
  
Was she bad then? She didn't think that she loved him, but when she was with him she felt electrified. In his presence, she genuinely enjoyed her life. Was it wrong of her to want more of that?   
  
Wait until marriage, her relatives had always admonished her. But she was nearly twenty-five and she couldn't imagine they'd intended her to wait this long. Her Aunt Louise had once told her that, 'The right man makes the world come alive.' Jericho certainly did that for her.  
  
The other divas, Trish and Lita, even Stacy, were happy. A little nuts, perhaps, but happy. For once in her life, Molly wanted that for herself. She looked at her reflection again. Looking back at her was a woman who was unmarried and likely to remain so, who'd never taken a risk, who endured her life but did not enjoy it.  
  
"Why shouldn't I have this?" she asked herself, voice echoing in the small room. "For as long as it lasts, I'll have something that matters."  
  
She smiled suddenly, feeling as though she were light enough to fly. It might not be love, but it could be something beautiful, something precious. When it ended, she'd have a memory to cherish, not the eternal shadow of "what if?" to reflect on.  
  
She left the bathroom and began to rummage through her suitcase, her hands finally falling on the short, floral nightie she'd worn for the "Undressed" shoot. She'd started carrying it with her a month ago, for a reason she'd refused to admit to herself. Putting it on, she played with her hair, trying to create a look that was at least attractive, if not death-defyingly sexy.  
  
Satisfied with her appearance, she put on a robe, not wanting to wander the halls half naked. She perched on the edge of her bed and made a quick phone call. Once she'd obtained Jericho's room number from the front desk she stood, took a deep breath, and left the room, finally prepared to change her life.  
  
She found his room quickly and knocked before she had a chance to change her mind. A few scant seconds later Jericho opened the door, standing before her wearing jeans, a King of the World t-shirt, and a surprised expression.  
  
He let her in without a word. Walking past him, she took note of her surroundings. The room was identical to hers and neatly kept. They were never in one place long enough to create much of mess, not that it had ever stopped Greg. Something about the comic books needing to breathe.   
  
After a moment's deliberation, she took a seat on the bed, keeping the robe on. Jericho sat down opposite her in the room's only chair. He still hadn't spoken, only looked at her intently, no doubt wondering why she was there.  
  
"I want you," she blurted. She'd meant to lead up to it a little bit more, but at least now it was out there. She repeated softly, "I want you."  
  
Something flared in his eyes but he made no move towards her. "Why?"  
  
That wasn't the response she'd been expecting. "What?"  
  
"Why do you want me?"  
  
"I- Chris, I...." Molly had no idea what to say in response to that question. "Does it matter?"  
  
He hesitated for a moment, considering, then nodded. "Yeah. It does."  
  
"Why?' She rose slowly, and removed her robe. "I came here because-"  
  
"Because you want someone," he finished for her. "Not because you want me."  
  
"That's not true," she said quickly.  
  
"Isn't it?"  
  
Frustrated, she cried, "Why are you doing this? I said what you wanted me to."  
  
He stood at that and walked over to her. Running a finger along the neckline of her nightie, he said in an undefinable tone. "I don't know. Call me crazy, but I thought maybe this could mean something."  
  
"It does!" she insisted.  
  
Jericho smiled a little and bent to pick up her robe. Offering it to her, he said, "Go back to bed, Molly."  
  
Utterly deflated, she took it obediently. "I knew it," she muttered to herself. "I knew you were just playing a game." She turned to leave.  
  
Grabbing her arm, Jericho swung her back to face him. "What did you say?"  
  
"Well that's all this was, wasn't it?" she asked angrily. "You wanted to see if you could get the Blessed Virgin Molly to throw herself at you. Well, congratulations! She did!"  
  
Jericho shook his head in disbelief. "Have you been listening to anything I said?"  
  
"I came here dressed in- in- *this* and you're throwing me out! What is there to talk about? You don't want me."  
  
"The *hell* I don't!" He stared at her for a moment, then said tightly, "Fine. If that's what you want-"   
  
Molly gasped in shock as his mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was wild, hungry, absolutely out of control. She twined her tongue around his, desperate to reciprocate this time. He growled into her mouth, then shoved her away. Putting his hands on her waist, he simply tossed her onto the bed. Molly landed so hard that she bounced, but he was on top of her, thrusting his tongue into her throat, before she could complain.   
  
Jericho pressed his hips down, grinding his erection against her, and putting to rest any doubts that he did indeed desire her. She arched against him with a cry as his hand went to her breast, cupping its fullness and teasing her nipple. He tore himself away from her mouth, planting biting kisses on her neck as he moved to her other breast. Molly was whimpering his name continually, her chant of "Chris... Chris... Chris..." mingling with the sound of their harsh breathing.  
  
He replaced his hands with his mouth, kissing the swell of her breasts revealed by the nightie. Burying his face in her cleavage, he nibbled her through the fabric. Molly groaned loudly at the sensation, surprising herself with the noise. He sat up and for a second she thought she'd scared him off, but Jericho simply yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it away. Grabbing her hands, he placed them against his bare chest, demanding, "Touch me."  
  
"Where?" she gasped, wanting to know what he liked, wanting to make him feel as good as he made her feel.  
  
"*Anywhere*!" He ducked his head and lashed his tongue over her nipple.   
  
Molly groaned, then hesitantly ran her fingers over his chest, scratching her nails tenderly against the hard buds of flesh she found. Jericho made an unearthly sound, and she froze, convinced that she'd hurt him. Her fears were put to rest when he grunted, "Do that again." Relieved, she obeyed him and was rewarded by his hands running over her legs, urging them apart.  
  
He settled between her thighs, rocking against her maddeningly. God, it was incredible, but Molly knew that it could feel even better if he just did it a little harder. Barely thinking about it, she slid her hands down his back, grabbing his ass and pulling him more firmly against her.   
  
Jericho gasped and kissed her again, thrusting against her a little faster. His hands went to the hem of her nightie, pushing it up to her waist. He trailed his fingers over her hips, moaning when he realized that she wasn't wearing panties.   
  
Molly's hands strayed to the top of his jeans, fingers sliding beneath the waistband to stroke against his skin. He pushed against her hard, then stilled, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head.  
  
Wrenching his lips from hers, he snarled, "Tell me to stop." His chest was heaving as he looked down at her intently. "Tell me to stop or I won't." 


	10. Chapter Ten

Molly's breath caught at the look on Jericho's face. His eyes were dark with desire, the pupils dilated. He held himself still, waiting for her answer, but she could feel his body shaking with want. Rocking her hips against his encouragingly, Molly whispered, "Don't stop. I don't want you to stop."  
  
He groaned at her words and brought his mouth down on hers again, kissing her hotly. Releasing her hands, he caught the hem of her nightie and broke the kiss long enough to pull it over her head. He lifted his hand to her breast, stroking the soft skin and brushing his thumb over her nipple.   
  
Molly screamed softly into his mouth at the bolt of electricity that swept though her body when he did that. She arched her back, pressing herself more firmly into his hand. Jericho broke the kiss and looked down at her, watching his fingers move across her skin.   
  
"Perfect," he whispered huskily, teasing her nipple until it hardened. "Oh, that's sweet." He bent his head to lap at the sensitive bud of flesh.   
  
Molly moaned again at the sensation of his hot, wet tongue sweeping across her breast. Wanting to give him pleasure too, she stroked her hands down his back, coming to rest on his ass. She squeezed tentatively, then harder when he groaned raggedly.   
  
After placing another kiss to her breast, Jericho pulled away and stood up. Molly looked up at him in surprise. Surely he wasn't leaving *now*, was he? Her question was answered when his hands went to his fly, quickly unfastening his jeans and pulling them off. He stood before her in nothing more than his boxers, his erection clearly outlined by the thin fabric, a damp patch near the head, and Molly was suddenly terrified. This was real, she realized for the first time. Chris Jericho was about to make love to her, have sex with her, fuck her. She wasn't sure what the proper euphemism was in this situation. She was about to lose her virginity.  
  
Jericho placed his hands on the waistband of his boxers, then seemingly changed his mind about removing them when he saw the look on Molly's face. Instantly, he rejoined her on the bed and pulled her close. "Hey, hey, what's the matter?" he murmured into her hair.  
  
Molly choked back tears, not sure where they were coming from or how to answer him. She wasn't afraid of Chris, didn't believe that he'd really hurt her, no matter how angry he got. She was just... unsettled. "What did you mean?" she finally whispered, answering his question with one of her own. "What did you mean when you said maybe this could mean something?"  
  
He didn't move for a long moment, then he began stroking her hair. "I thought maybe we could be about more than sex and anger," he said softly. "That you could want me for me, not just because you're lonely."  
  
"I'm not lonely," she contradicted automatically.  
  
"Yes, you are," he corrected her. "Face it, people like you about as much as they like me." He continued to stroke her, his gentle touch taking the sting out of the cruel words.  
  
Molly did her best to take offense anyway, anger she knew how to deal with. She pulled back slightly and demanded, "Well, why do you want me then? Am I just a convenience? One of your "options"?"  
  
"That was your word, not mine," he reminded her calmly. "And if I just wanted to screw a brunette there are ring rats in every city we visit who are a whole lot less challenging than you are."  
  
"So that's it? You like the challenge?" Molly was beginning to feel like she was on solid ground again. This was much better than the terrified uncertainty she'd felt only minutes before.  
  
Jericho didn't rise to it. "Do you have to misinterpret everything I say?"  
"Then what do you mean?!" He voice broke at the end of the question, anger giving way to tears again. He pulled her back against him, almost like he'd anticipated the breakdown. Molly sobbed against his shoulder, insecurities back in full force. "Why do you want *me*?"  
  
"You make me laugh," he said unexpectedly. "You're tough as nails, and you go after what you want. You don't take any shit from anyone, and you dish out insults as well as you take them. Plus you may be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."  
  
He paused, waiting for a response. Beyond words, tears forgotten, Molly simply goggled at him.  
  
Jericho shrugged, "So I tried to get your attention."  
  
That she had an answer for. "I was just in the right place at the right time."  
  
"Before that. You wouldn't have trusted me if I was nice to you, so I wasn't." He smiled wryly at himself. "If you'd still had pigtails, I would've found an inkwell to dip them in."  
  
Scarcely believing what she was hearing, Molly stammered, "You... You liked me?"  
  
He kissed her forehead. "I like you. Present tense. I don't like too many people."  
  
"Me neither."  
  
Jericho chuckled quietly. "Believe it or not, I noticed that."  
  
His dry tone made her smile. Then she thought of something else, "If you liked me, why were you always so angry with me?"  
  
"I was frustrated." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I finally had a chance to get to know you, and you kept shoving me away every chance you got. I figured that if I could make you mad, you'd have to keep talking to me."  
  
Molly frowned. "But you're nasty to all of the divas. Is that what you're doing, trying to get them to pay attention to you so you can seduce them?"  
  
He laughed outright. "Might I remind you that you seduced me tonight?"  
  
She smacked his chest. "Who locked me in a closet and ripped my shirt off?"  
  
"Who came into my room and took her clothes off?"  
  
She hated to admit it, but he had a point. "Fine, we seduced each other. But you started it!"  
  
Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Jericho agreed with her, "Fine, fine, I will admit that I started it."  
  
Molly's smile faded as she remembered what they'd been talking about, "What about Trish? You propositioned her."  
  
"And if I thought she'd agree, I wouldn't have," he told her placatingly. "I told you before. I'm not into blondes or women who are made out of plastic, and even if I was, I wouldn't want Trish. She's an airhead."  
  
"Then why did you-"  
  
"We had a match that night, remember?" He rubbed a hand against her back soothingly "Me and Christian and Victoria against her and the Dudleys. I wanted to throw her off her game. That's all."   
  
Molly digested his answer for a moment. It made sense. And Chris had never shown any real interest in Trish besides those encounters. She believed him. But there was still one more obstacle. "What about Stephanie?" she asked quietly. "You said the same things to her, that you only made fun of her because you liked her."  
  
Jericho's hand stilled. "Ah yes. Stephanie."  
  
"You said the same things," she reminded him again.  
  
"Would you believe me if I told you that I didn't mean it when I said it to her, but I do mean it when I say it to you?" he asked.  
  
"Probably not," she admitted shakily.  
  
He started stroking her again. "No, I didn't expect you to. But it's pretty much the truth. When I said those things to her, I didn't like her. I told her that I did because I needed to get on her good side fast so I could get a shot at the Undisputed Championship again."  
  
"I thought you were in love with her."  
  
"Stephanie?" he laughed a little. "Not fuckin' likely. Oh I tried to feel something for her. I'm not proud of it, but she was beautiful, and she's the boss's daughter. Hell, you saw where it got Hunter. At that point I was a little desperate."  
  
Feeling a little more secure, Molly asked, "So why didn't you... like her?"  
  
"Well, she's a bitch," he told her frankly. "When you get snippy with me, it's cute. When she did it, I just wanted to run. Plus I'm pretty sure she's certifiably insane. Add to that, she's been on a trampage through most of the roster since she was eighteen; there isn't much to like. I thought that if I got to know her, I could care about her. Instead I just ended up hating her more."  
  
"It didn't always look that way," she said softly.  
  
He smiled crookedly. "I'm not such a bad actor, am I? It was the main event at WrestleMania, what was I supposed to do? If that makes me a shallow, manipulative bastard, then so be it, but don't think that she felt anything for me either. I was just another way to hurt Hunter."  
  
She believed him, she realized. She'd never expected to believe a word that came out of Chris Jericho's mouth, but there it was. "I believe you."  
  
Pulling her tightly against his chest, he kissed her hair. "I'm glad."  
  
Molly closed her eyes and enjoyed being held. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like this, had made her feel safe and cared for. And it was Chris Jericho who made her feel protected. Chris Jericho whose touch she enjoyed. God, who would ever have believed it?  
  
Jericho kissed her forehead again, then reached over to switch off the light. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he suggested. "It's been a hell of a day."  
  
"Here?" she asked. He hadn't released his hold on her, so she assumed that he wanted her to stay.  
  
"Damn right you're staying here," he informed her. "I've got you. I'm keeping you."  
  
She smiled at his possessive tone, rather in spite of herself. For tonight, she'd allow it. "Night Chris."  
  
"Good night Molly." 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Waking in his arms that next morning, Molly reflected, was one of the more pleasurable experiences of her life. Despite their state of undress, he'd simply held her all night long. When she woke, he'd smiled at her sweetly, kissed her breathless, and then taken her out to breakfast.   
  
Very odd.  
  
She'd more than half expected him to jump on her, wouldn't have fought him off if he had. They come so close so many times in the past twenty-four hours, he had to be frustrated. Heaven knew Molly was. And yet the whole week had been like that. Charming excursions interspersed with bouts of wild, but ultimately chaste, kissing. It was almost like he was... courting her, to use that silly, old fashioned word. Yes, that was exactly what it felt like: a courtship.  
  
Molly was loving every minute of it.  
  
They'd had a lovely week just getting to know each other. It was rather amazing how well they got along now that all the baggage was out in the open. She genuinely liked him, she realized. Liked him more than she'd ever believed possible. He had a knack for surprising her in the most wonderful of ways. She hoped that she could do the same for him.  
  
She smiled to herself as she snuck up behind Jericho, who was hovering at the top of the ramp, bouncing lightly on his heels, eager to get out there and kill Steiner. Molly took a moment to appreciate the view and pray that he liked her surprise. "Boo."  
  
Turning, he looked down at her, eyes going wide with shock.   
  
Molly smirked at him. "You like?" She turned slowly, so that he could get a good look at her new ring attire, a dark plum colored catsuit. The catsuit wasn't skin tight, she'd rejected that idea immediately, but it showed her figure off to its best advantage. She and the costumer had compromised. Molly had gotten her to agree to a higher cut neckline in exchange for the leather like material and the zipper that extended from between her legs to between her breasts. The garment hinted rather than exposed, but it was easily the sexiest thing she'd ever worn.  
  
Jericho was still gaping at her. "I love," he managed finally, reaching out to run his hands over her bare arms. "What brought this on?"  
  
"They refused to replace my shirt," Molly answered him. "You know, the one you destroyed last week. They said this was the best they could do."  
  
He nodded. "I agree with them. And if you're expecting me to apologize about the shirt, you're out of luck."  
  
"Trust me, I *never* expected you to apologize."  
  
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close. "Good. You look incredible."  
  
She tilted her face up to his. "Thank you."  
  
Taking the hint, he kissed her deeply. "There's no way I'll be able to concentrate now."  
  
"I'm sure you'll manage," she murmured, playing with his ponytail. "Want me to come out with you?"  
  
He hummed in approval at the touch, then frowned slightly. "I'm afraid to let anyone else look at you."  
  
Molly rolled her eyes. "I doubt you have to worry."  
  
Sliding a hand around to fiddle with the top of her zipper, Jericho shook his head. "You have no idea how good you look."  
  
Smiling wickedly, Molly replied, "Now all we have to do is get rid of that goatee of yours, and we'll be an unstoppable pair."  
  
Jericho, distracted by her cleavage, didn't register the insult at first. "We can.... Wait. What?" He rubbed his chin defensively. "What's wrong with my goatee?"  
  
"Any time you can braid facial hair, it's not a good thing," she answered, giving the hair in question a playful tug.  
  
"Ow," he pouted, looking at her pointedly.  
  
She snickered. "That didn't hurt."  
  
"Yes, it did."  
  
"No, it didn't."  
  
"Yes, it did."  
  
Realizing that she wasn't going to win, Molly reached up and kissed his chin, flicking her tongue lightly against his skin. "Better?"  
  
He shifted against her, "Maybe." Then his tongue was in her mouth again, showing her how to make it up to him properly. The sound of his music starting brought them to a halt, Jericho pulling away with a groan. "Fuck."  
  
Molly put a hand to her lips, trying to get her breathing back under control. "Yeah."  
  
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out onto the ramp with him. "Think I better keep an eye on you," he muttered as they walked towards the ring.   
  
Molly basked in the crowd's screams of approval for her new outfit. "I'll be good," she promised sweetly.  
  
"I doubt that."   
  
Jericho helped her up the ring steps then entered the ring himself. After posing for the crowd for a few moments, he leaned casually against the ropes next to Molly, watching Steiner's entrance. "You really don't like it?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth, the question covered by the crowd's cheers.  
  
Molly hid a smile. "I really don't like it."  
  
The referee rang the bell to start the match immediately after she said it, so they didn't have any more time to discuss his appearance. Despite his earlier complaints, Jericho seemed totally focused on the match, nailing Steiner with several quick uppercuts. It wasn't until the end, when he had the other man locked in the Walls of Jericho that he snuck another look over at her, not quite able to suppress his grin. Molly smiled back, then cheered as Steiner tapped out.   
  
Darting into the ring, she threw her arms around him impulsively. She giggled when he hugged her back, lifting her off of her feet and twirling her around. As he set her down, Molly caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. "Look out!" she shouted as Test charged into the ring, steel chair in hand.  
  
Jericho shoved her behind him, keeping his body between her and the big Canadian. "Go," he snapped, eyes locked on Test.  
  
Molly ignored him. If she ran, she couldn't possibly help.   
  
"Dammit Molly." Jericho started working his way around the ring, trying to lure Test away from her. The larger man followed him immediately, proving that his focus wasn't on Molly. 'Stacy must have taught him well.' Perhaps she could use this to her advantage.  
  
Jericho slowly circled Test, looking for an opening as the man threatened him with the chair, and Molly worked her way in the opposite direction.  
  
"Afraid to fight me barehanded?" Jericho taunted Test, unknowingly using the same words Molly had used on his girlfriend. She smiled a little at the coincidence. If she could just get on the ropes, she was in the perfect position for a drop-kick. All Test had to do was look five feet to his left and she'd be caught, but fortunately he seemed totally occupied with Jericho. She ducked under the ropes and put her foot up on the bottom one. 'Keep him talking Chris.'  
  
"You know damn well I'd whip your ass without it. Again."  
  
"Bullshit!" Test, the master of witty comebacks, replied. "Prove it." To make his point, Test did as Jericho wanted and flung the chair away.  
  
Right at Molly.  
  
Time slowed to a crawl as she watched the chair come straight at her head. 'Should've gone to the other side,' she decided as it got a little closer. 'Maybe I should have left when Chris told me to.'   
  
Her eyes flicked to the two men standing the in middle of the ring. Shock was written on Test's face, horror on Jericho's. 'Yeah, definitely should have left.'  
  
Time restarted. Molly felt impact, felt herself falling, and then she felt nothing at all. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Waking up felt like floating at first. Strong arms held her tight, tethering her to the bed. As she became more fully aware, she realized that gentle lips were placing tender kisses against her temple and the side of her face. Finally, gradually, she became aware that she had an absolutely splitting headache.  
  
"Ummm?" she moaned softly, trying to remember what had happened.   
  
"You're awake."  
  
For the first time, Molly put two and two together and realized that there was another body in the bed with her. "Chris?" She opened her eyes warily, blinking at the harsh light of the hospital room. Jericho's face was only inches from hers. He was smiling faintly at her, but he looked terribly tired, the skin around his eyes drawn tight.  
  
"Were you expecting someone else?" he asked suspiciously before smiling more broadly at her. The smile dissolved into a look of concern as he stroked her hair off of her face. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like my head's gonna explode," she mumbled, afraid to speak too loudly in case it did just that.  
  
Jericho nodded. "That's normal. You've got another concussion. A really nasty one this time, you're lucky you didn't crack your skull. Oh, and you've got some stitches in your forehead."  
  
After thinking about it a moment, she remembered, "Test."  
  
"Test," he confirmed softly. Something dark lurked in Jericho's eyes at the sound of the name.   
  
"I don't know about you," he said, striving for a light tone. "But I'm getting royally sick of hanging out, waiting for doctors to put you back together."  
  
"Only happened twice," she murmured in her own defense.  
  
"Three times," he corrected her. "Three times in two months."  
  
"Two," she insisted. "You only stayed twice."  
  
He smiled and kissed her nose. "I waited in the hall the first time. Didn't want you to think I was too attached to you."  
  
"Very smooth," she said drily.  
  
"So you seem to remember everything," he said, changing the subject. "And you must be thinking straight if you can get snarky with me. Your doctor will be relieved."  
  
Molly blinked. "Was it supposed to be a problem?"  
  
"Not according to the CAT scan but he said it was a possibility." Jericho's tone was matter-of-fact but had a faint tremor to it.  
  
"CAT scan? How long was I out?"  
  
"Three days."   
  
Molly gasped softly, and Jericho looked straight into her eyes. "You scared the hell out of me," he told her honestly.  
  
She reached up to stroke his hair, hoping to soothe away some of the worry. "Oh Chris..."  
  
He captured her hand in his and kissed her palm. "I'm glad you're awake. I suppose I'd better go get the doctor." He brushed his lips gently over hers before he reluctantly got out of the bed. "Oh by the way, I told them I'm your husband. I'm not sure that they believed me, but it was the only way they'd let me stay. So, just FYI."  
  
Molly blinked after him, then smiled. He never ceased to amaze her.  
  
Mentally she ran through her full name, address, phone number, and senior year grades. Satisfied, she started going over the multiplication tables. 'Six times eight is forty-eight; twelve times nine is one hundred and eight; seven times-' The doctor's arrival made her stop, but she was content that her mental abilities were still fully in place.  
  
Chris followed the other man to her bedside, taking her hand and kissing her forehead. "I have an errand to run," he said softly. "Will you be all right by yourself?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll be okay," she smiled up at him reassuringly. He still looked worried.  
  
He nodded. "Good. I'll be back in a couple of hours." With another quick kiss he was gone.  
  
Molly turned her attention to the doctor, enduring the examination and questions about her full name and address. 'Way ahead of you there.'  
  
The man sat back with a smile. "Well you gave all of us a bit of a scare, but you should be fine. There's no lasting damage that I can see. The stitches can come out in three weeks. One of our best plastic surgeons took care of that, and I've been assured that it won't scar. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to insist that you don't wrestle for at least six weeks, the blood vessels need time to heal, but otherwise you're in good shape."  
  
Molly was aghast. "Six weeks?" The fans wouldn't remember who she was at the end of that! Hell, Vince might not remember who she was.  
  
"Six weeks," he said severely. "And I want you to be very careful in the meantime. I'll get that husband of yours to enforce that. He seems to be the obstinate type."  
  
Good grief, he really had told everyone that they were married. "Has Chris been a nuisance?"  
  
"No moreso than any other panicked spouse," the doctor said wryly. "We see a lot of that here."  
  
"I can imagine," Molly murmured, processing the 'panicked spouse' remark.  
  
"All right," the doctor rose, visit obviously over. "We'll keep you one more night. You can go home tomorrow. Tylenol every four hours, that's still the only thing we've got that helps. Call a nurse if you start feeling nauseated."  
  
After he'd left, Molly looked around the room. It had been quite awhile since she'd been hurt badly enough to end up in the hospital, but this room was a carbon copy of the last. 'Couldn't they at least use different paint colors?' A few objects of interest were placed on the table next to her.   
  
The first, a get well card from the McMahon family, had the words "Remember, you signed a waiver so you can't sue us," written in invisible ink underneath the signatures. At least they'd noticed she was gone.   
  
The next thing that caught her eye was a small snow globe with a replica of the Brooklyn Bridge inside it. The attached note said, "Sorry you're not in NYC with us. Get well soon," and was signed by Victoria and Steven. 'Guess they're not holding a grudge about Chris beating him up.'  
  
She picked the book up next, a slightly battered copy of Iain Pears' "An Instance of the Fingerpost" which looked like it was about a million pages long. 'Well it'll give me something to do while I sit on my ass for six weeks.' She didn't see any kind of card or note enclosed, but when she opened it, the nameplate claimed that it belonged to Scott Levy. 'Scott Levy. Why is that familiar? Scott Levy- Raven! Raven sent me a present? And how'd he know I was hurt anyway?'  
  
Finally she picked up the huge bouquet of coral roses that she'd been saving for last. She inhaled their sweet scent with a smile on her face, then opened the card. Her smile faded slightly at the sight of the feminine handwriting. She'd assumed that the flowers were from Chris. "Molly- Test and I are so sorry about your terrible accident. We feel just awful about it and hope that you feel better soon. Stacy." Molly snickered. The "please don't kill us or break our kneecaps because of this" came through loud and clear. Evidently the scare tactics she'd used on Stacy had worked every bit as well as she'd hoped.  
  
Coming to the end of the pile, she lay back with a sigh. She picked up the book, trying to concentrate on the first page. The type made her head swim, and she put it back down. She'd try it again later when she didn't hurt so much. She huffed a little and looked around the room. It had been a matter of hours, and she was already bored out of her mind. The next six weeks obviously were not going to be pleasant.  
  
Molly played with the snow globe for a few minutes, then put it down. Finally, lacking anything better to do, she started thinking about the events that had led up to her hospital stay. Test hit her with a chair. And what started everything? Jericho thinking that he hit Stacy with a chair. Molly couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"What's so funny?" Jericho asked, entering the room.  
  
"I was just thinking that there's an unfortunate irony to all of this," Molly smiled and looked over at him. Then she gasped in shock. "What happened?"  
  
Chris rejoined her on the bed, and she looked up at him in concern. His face was a mess. There was a gash on his forehead and one of his eyes was blackened. He shrugged. "I finished my errand."  
  
Molly reached up to run gentle fingers over the cut. "Chris, what did you do?" she asked fearfully.  
  
Settling his head on the pillow next to her, he reached out to caress the side of her face. "Test won't be coming near you again."  
  
"What did you do?" she asked again.  
  
He smiled at her crookedly. "Exactly what you think I did- beat the living shit out of him."  
"Chris..."  
  
He placed a light kiss on her lips and continued, "Dislocated his shoulder. I'm pretty sure I broke his nose too."  
  
"Oh God, Chris." Molly was aghast. "It was an accident."  
  
"I don't care." Jericho's smile faded, his voice going tight. "You didn't see it happen. When that chair hit you and you fell, I- And then you were unconscious for days. You could very easily have never woken up again."  
  
Near tears at the pain in his voice, Molly rolled into his arms, pressing herself tightly against his body. She wrapped her arms around him in return, rubbing his back soothingly. "I'm okay now though. I'm going to be fine, the doctor said so. You don't have to worry anymore."  
  
He held her close for long minutes, both of them striving to regain a measure of control. Finally, he asked in a steadier voice, "What else did he say?"  
  
Molly sighed miserably. "That I'm in good shape, but I can't wrestle for the next six weeks. And that I have to be careful in the meantime."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"Pretty much. He said he'd get you to enforce the 'take it easy' order." She paused, then added. "And he described you as a panicked spouse."  
  
Jericho was still for a moment, then he chuckled. "That's probably because I threw an orderly into the wall."  
  
"You did *what*?"  
  
"I think that was after I got done shouting at everybody. Oh, and right before I took a swing at the doctor."  
  
"Chris!" Molly jerked her head up to look at him and immediately regretted it. She dropped back down with a moan and closed her eyes, willing the world to stop spinning. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Tell me you're making this up."  
  
Strong fingers started to massage her temples, easing some of the pain away. "No, that really happened," he said calmly. "I got a little upset when nobody would tell me anything."  
  
Curious despite herself, Molly asked, "Then what happened?"  
  
"Well, they told me that I could calm down, be sedated, or be escorted out by security. I chose to calm down." She could hear the smile in his voice as he continued, "That's when I played the husband card which worked pretty well."  
  
She couldn't help but return the smile. "I can't believe you did that."  
  
His fingers stilled briefly. "Which part?"  
  
"*Any* of it."  
  
He chuckled again and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Hey, they were trying to keep me away from my girl. They had it coming."  
  
Interesting turn of phrase there. "Your girl?"  
  
Jericho leaned down and kissed her less chastely than before, running his tongue along her teeth before sucking gently on her lower lip. "Aren't you my girl, Molly?"  
  
At that moment, with butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Molly would have agreed to be his anything. Smiling up at him slowly, she whispered, "You know I am."  
  
He returned the smile and whispered back, "Good answer." 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

She was going to go stark, raving mad. That was all there was to it.   
  
Molly paced irritably in the confines of the hotel room. Jericho had simply left her there. No, scratch that, he had *imprisoned* her there while he went to the arena for the show. They'd argued about it for most of the day, but he proved immovable on this point. Under no circumstances was Molly going to be anywhere near the arena. Not at ringside. Not backstage. Not even in the parking lot. Of course, she really hadn't wanted to be in the parking lot, but by that point she was throwing every option she could think of at him. All to no avail. She was staying in the hotel room where it was safe.  
  
She wasn't entirely sure what he thought was going to happen to her if she came to the arena. Test and Stacy had been immobilized, and she couldn't think of anyone else who had it in for her. Nevertheless, she was still trapped. He'd made it clear that he wasn't bringing her with him. He'd also threatened Victoria and Steven with dismemberment if they drove her and, for good measure, had taken her wallet with him so she couldn't call a cab. She'd give him one thing, he was thorough.  
  
It was infuriating.  
  
She really hoped that the next six weeks wouldn't be like this. It just felt so wrong to be lounging around the hotel while all her friends- well, everyone she knew- was at work. What if something happened and she wasn't there?  
  
Chris had done his best to assure her that six weeks wasn't that long to be out. He'd actually laughed when she'd admitted that she was afraid everyone would forget about her. Before she had a chance to get angry at his insensitivity, he'd kissed her senseless and assured her that he wouldn't let anyone forget. Then he'd reminded her how long Lita was out. That was enough to make Molly feel guilty about her own relatively brief time off. She hadn't had the heart to remind him that Lita was far more popular than Molly herself had ever been.   
  
At nine o'clock she flipped on the TV and settled in to watch the show she should be on. Well, maybe not this week when she still had stitches in her head and looked like hell, but it was still her show.   
  
Hurricane and Spike. Nowinski and Maven. Goldust and Booker T against Regal and Storm. 'Wow, it's like the parade of the ex-boyfriends.' Jazz and Victoria. Molly scouted that match closely, knowing that she was in for some heavy competition when she made it back to the ring. Finally, at ten-thirty the main event was announced. She turned the sound up, looking forward to seeing Chris in action.  
  
"Tonight's Triple Threat match for the Heavyweight Championship is next," JR informed the viewers. "But first we have a special message from Test for Molly who was injured last week in that horrible accident."  
  
Test wasn't at the arena, but when they cued up his video appearance Molly couldn't help but smile. He looked ten times worse than Chris had when he'd finished with him. A small, vindictive part of her cheered at the sight of his battered face.   
  
Test sighed heavily and started talking, looking as though he was reading off cue cards. "Molly, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about last week. The chair shot was an accident; I never meant to hurt you. If I could take it back, I would. I know how it feels to have someone close to you hurt in a terrible accident, and if there's anything Stacy and I can do for you-" He made a face. "-or Jericho, please don't hesitate to ask. I hope you feel better soon."  
  
After the clip ended, the camera panned the arena, zooming in on a fan holding a "Get Well Soon Molly" sign. Molly gasped at the sight, deeply touched. There were actually people out there who liked her. Maybe Chris was right, maybe they wouldn't forget her after all.  
  
By the time she returned her attention to the screen, JR was talking again, "-footage of that incident."  
  
Without further warning, Molly found herself looking at herself and Jericho embracing in the middle of the ring after his match the previous week. She flinched when Test entered the ring, then shook her head and moved closer, morbidly fascinated.  
  
On the screen, Jericho shoved her behind him, then started leading Test away from her. Molly glanced at him quickly, then moved across the ring in the opposite direction, coming to rest on Test's left. She ducked under the ropes and started to pull herself up as Jericho taunted Test.  
  
And there it was. Molly was surprised by how quickly it all happened. To her, it had felt like hours passed between the time that the chair left Test's hand and the time it hit her in the head. In reality it had been almost instantaneous. The chair slammed into her head, knocking her backwards off the apron. Jericho lunged for her immediately, screaming her name, but no human could move fast enough to stop her fall. She slammed heavily onto the concrete floor, landing on her back with a sickening thud. A truly amazing amount of blood pooled underneath her, pouring from the gash the chair had made in her head, as Jericho reached her side.   
  
His shaking hands fluttered ineffectually over her body before cradling her face. The sound was out around the ring, but Molly could see his lips move as he said her name over and over again, begging her to wake up. As Jericho brought one of her hands to his lips, the cameraman stepped around him. The new angle made Molly catch her breath as she realized for the first time that he was crying.   
  
Jericho crouched over her body protectively as the paramedics joined the scene. He shoved the first man who tried to touch her away violently, before realizing that he was there to help. The rest of the footage was almost a duplicate of the aftermath of Stacy's "accident" as the paramedics loaded her onto a gurney. Molly couldn't tear her eyes away from the look of anguish on Jericho's face as he clung to her hand. His chest was streaked with blood, but he ignored the towel that someone was trying to hand him. Good heavens, she hadn't known she *had* that much blood.   
  
She sat back, shaken, as the recap ended, and they cut to a commercial. Even when they'd talked about it, Molly hadn't really thought about what it must have meant for Chris to see her get hurt. She would have expected him to be upset, sure, but this was... wow. She still couldn't quite believe it. To see him lose it like that... she hadn't realized how important she was to him. And she must be important to inspire that kind of a reaction.  
  
The rest of the show passed in a bit of a blur. She vaguely noted HHH hitting Steiner with the title belt to pick up the win, but every time she looked at Chris, all she could see was the horror on his face as he looked at her lying on the concrete.  
  
What seemed like minutes, but must have been nearly an hour later, Jericho let himself into the room, calling out, "I'm back. Molly?"  
  
She'd meant to greet him cheerfully and console him over losing the match. Instead, everything flooded back at the sound of his voice, and she threw herself into his arms. Jericho dropped his duffle bag, his arms going around her immediately. "Molly? Baby? What's wrong? Do you hurt?"  
  
She shook her head quickly, not wanting to worry him any more. "No, I'm fine," she sniffled. "I'm fine."  
  
Some of the tension bled out of his body, and he stroked her hair. "Well, I'm happy to see you too. Did you watch the show?"  
  
"Yeah," she sniffled again, regaining some semblance of control. "I'm sorry about your match."  
  
He laughed a little. "Hell, it's Hunter. It's to be expected. I'm just glad he didn't nail me."  
  
"Me too," she mumbled, pressing herself closer to him.  
  
His arms tightened around her as he kissed her hair. "I guess you saw the recap," he said unhappily.  
  
Molly nodded against his chest.  
  
Jericho sighed deeply. "I didn't want you to see that. You shouldn't have had to."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"There was so much blood," he said in a low voice. "It must have been a shock for you to see how bad it was."  
  
"A little," she admitted. Then she said uncertainly, "You were crying."  
  
"Yeah," he breathed. "I was terrified."  
  
Molly's breath caught to hear him admit it so easily. There was no macho posturing in this moment; he was trusting her with unguarded emotion. It was an honor.  
  
They held each other in silence for a time, then he continued, "I know, everyone knows how much head wounds bleed. Logically I knew that it wasn't as bad as it looked, but- God Molly, I wasn't thinking real logically. And the sound the chair made when it hit you... And then when you hit the ground..."  
  
Jericho took a deep breath and shuddered at the memory. "I really thought I was going to lose you," he told her softly. "I've never been so scared of anything in my life."  
  
Molly choked back a sob at his words, hugging him tighter. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she leaned up to kiss his throat. "Chris..."  
  
"Shhhh..." He bent his head to capture her lips with his own. Moving his hand to cradle the back of her neck, he slowly explored her mouth, stroking his tongue gently against hers. When they had to part for breath, he whispered, "It's over now."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Why?"  
  
She ran the back of her fingers against his jaw. "Because I scared you."  
  
"It wasn't your fault."  
  
Molly shook her head. "I should've left when I had the chance. You were right."  
  
Jericho considered this for a moment, then said, "Could you write that down for me? I have a feeling I won't be hearing it that much."  
  
Thrown, she didn't react immediately. Then she smacked his chest. Hard. Jericho burst out laughing and scooped her up, depositing her carefully on the bed. He joined her immediately, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her. Smiling affectionately, he trailed a finger over her face, slowly mapping her features. Eyebrow, cheekbone, jaw. Forehead, nose, lips. Molly kissed his finger in passing and he tapped her nose playfully.  
  
"You can make it up to me by never getting hurt again," he said seriously.  
  
Molly smiled faintly. "I'll try."  
  
"Good," he breathed, lowering his lips to hers. Molly wrapped her arms around him, holding him in place and deepening the kiss. Jericho sighed as her tongue slipped into his mouth, and he lowered himself carefully onto her, bracing himself on his arms so as not to crush her.   
  
They kissed endlessly, eternally. Molly ran her hands over his back, slipping underneath his shirt to caress his bare skin. Jericho gasped softly at the sensation and moved his hand instinctively to her breast, cupping its warm weight. Mollya threw her head back with a groan, and his lips moved to her collarbone, planting gentle kisses against the sensitive skin. She slid her hands around to his front, running them over his flat stomach until he pulled away.  
  
"We can't," he murmured regretfully, raking his fingers through his hair.  
  
Molly opened her eyes, blinking slowly. "Why not?"  
  
Still trying to catch his breath, Jericho turned over to look at her. "You're supposed to be taking it easy, remember? No physical exertion."  
  
Her mouth fell open. "You're kidding, right?"  
  
He shook his head. "I wish."  
  
"Chris, I think he meant I wasn't supposed to lift anything heavy or go jogging. Not this."  
  
"We're not going to take the chance," he told her firmly. When she groaned in frustration, he wrapped his arm around her waist and placed a kiss to the delicate patch of skin just below her ear.   
  
"We will," he whispered, the rush of air tickling her ear. "We will, and I swear it's going to be incredible. We just have to wait a little longer."  
  
Molly sighed, then nodded in resignation. He kissed her lips chastely one more time, before settling in to hold her. Snuggling back into his arms, Molly whispered, "Chris?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Tell me you want me." She needed that reassurance before she could sleep.  
  
Resting his chin on her hair, Jericho said softly, "I want you. I want you more than I want to breathe. I get hard just looking at you, and when you touch me, I feel like I'll lose my mind. I want you."  
  
Aroused but comforted, Molly closed her eyes. "Thank you."  
  
He squeezed her tightly for a moment. "You're welcome, Molly." 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Molly closed the book with a sigh and a faint smile. Historical fiction had never been her thing but this book was excellent. She had to admit that Raven had good taste, even if she still didn't know why he'd sent her this. She couldn't believe that she'd finished it so quickly.  
  
She stood and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back to get out the last of the kinks brought about by hours of reading. Bouncing on her heels, she looked around the room, searching for something else to do. B.C.- Before Concussion- she would've gone to the gym if she'd found herself with some extra time on her hands. However, between Jericho and her doctor, she knew enough not to try. Last week she'd simply walked into the gym to scout the area with no intention of actually working out, and she'd found herself being thrown over Jericho's shoulder yet again, as he hauled her back to their room. It had been embarrassing in the extreme. Needless to say, she wouldn't be going near the gym anytime soon.  
  
'Three weeks,' she reminded herself. 'Three weeks and I can get back to normal.' She was halfway through her convalescence, but it was getting more frustrating the longer it went on. She felt perfectly normal; even her forehead looked better now that she had the stitches out. As far as she was concerned, there was no earthly reason she couldn't start behaving normally as well.   
  
Jericho, however, didn't see it that way. He still seemed to consider her the walking wounded and insisted that she behave as such. Molly had a feeling that if he could have gotten away with wrapping her in bubble wrap for the duration of her recovery, he would've done so.  
  
Crossing to the window, she looked out onto a dreary day. She considered going for a walk, but decided that it wouldn't be worth the interrogation she got when she returned. Chris got antsy when she left the building without him. It was as though he was afraid that she'd be attacked, or fall, or be abducted by aliens as soon as her feet hit the sidewalk. Molly couldn't guess what was going on in his head but she knew the day would be more peaceful if she simply waited for him to come back. At least that way, she wouldn't have to assure him that yes she was fine and no she hadn't done anything risky ten thousand times before he was mollified.  
  
She sat back down with a sigh, deciding to watch the rain for the time being. Chris was due back any minute now from his workout. Maybe they could do something after that. Two days ago, he'd taken her to a cabaret to celebrate the removal of her stitches. Molly smiled at the memory, trying to focus on the positives of the situation instead of sitting here feeling like a fifties housewife waiting for the man of the house to return. Once upon a time, she'd had a life of her own.  
  
Not that it wasn't comforting to have someone to look out for her, to care if she was hurt or unhappy. It was just that she was beginning to feel smothered by Chris's ever-present concern. She would never have pegged him as the overprotective type, but he was proving to be almost insanely solicitous. It never seemed to occur to him that she'd been taking care of herself for a long time.  
  
Lost in thought, she didn't hear the door open. She only became aware of Chris's presence when his arms came around her from behind. "Hey," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to the side of her neck.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Molly didn't bother to turn around, but she knew his brows were furrowing at her flat tone. "What's the matter?" he asked immediately. Oh yeah, she knew him well.  
  
She shrugged. "Nothing."  
  
"I can't fix it until you tell me what's wrong," he said mildly.  
  
Suddenly irrationally furious, Molly snapped, "I'm fine!" Fix it? She didn't need him to fix it. She needed him to leave her the hell alone for a few hours so she could do something on her own. She needed to remember what it was like to be self-sufficient. She needed to stop spending hours locked in her tower, waiting for her prince to return so she could start living again. She needed her life to stop revolving around him. She was good at being Molly the hardass, Molly the loner. Being Molly, Chris Jericho's girlfriend, was more difficult.  
  
Jericho held her silently for a moment, giving her a chance to calm down a little. Then he dropped another kiss onto her shoulder and said tentatively, "I got you a present."  
  
"A present?" That was a first; even when she'd been in the hospital he hadn't bought her anything.  
  
"Yeah," he said, and she could feel him nod. "I wanted to thank you for letting me coddle you. I know it probably gets on your nerves sometimes, but I worry about you. I think I'd go crazy if you didn't let me protect you."  
  
Something inside Molly softened at his words. In the face of that declaration, she couldn't tell him that she didn't need him to protect her, that sometimes she just wanted to take care of herself. She couldn't deliberately hurt him like that. "What is it?" she asked finally, not knowing what else to say.  
  
He released her and starting digging through the pockets of his jacket. Molly turned around, watching as he retrieved a small box wrapped in shiny red paper. He offered it to her with a smile. "Open it and find out."  
  
Hesitantly, she took it from him, slowly running her nails underneath the tape and unfolding the paper. Opening the box, she moved aside the tissue paper to reveal a small pair of ornate silver scissors.   
  
She looked at them curiously. They were pretty, probably antique, but she couldn't imagine why he'd bought them for her. Jericho smiled again at her confusion, then took her hand. Molly allowed herself to be pulled into the bathroom, not protesting when he put his hands on her waist and lifted her so that she was sitting on the countertop next to the sink.  
  
Jericho remained standing in front of her, Molly's inner thighs lightly brushing his hips. Tilting his chin towards her, he explained, "You said you didn't like it."  
  
Shocked, Molly ran her fingers lightly over his goatee. "Are you serious?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
He plucked the scissors out of the box and presented them to her. "If you don't like it, I don't like it."  
  
"Chris..." She took the scissors instinctively, continuing to stare at him.  
  
He brushed his lips against hers quickly, then tilted his head back again. "Go ahead, Molly."  
  
She reached up gingerly, trying to get a good angle. Inwardly, she was amazed that he had taken her teasing words so much to heart. Chris Jericho was a handsome man no matter what, even though he looked much better without the ridiculous banded goatee. He'd always seemed to like it though, and Molly couldn't quite believe that he was prepared to sacrifice it for her.   
  
Jericho remained stolidly still as she fussed with his facial hair. Finally she brought the shears closed on the tuft of hair, jumping slightly as it came away in her hand. Hearing her intake of breath, he looked down at her. "Finished?"  
  
Not trusting her voice, Molly held up the bundle of hair for his perusal. He took it from her and looked at it closely for a moment, then threw it carelessly into the trash can. "Thanks, Molly." He kissed her forehead, then her lips, then stepped over to the sink.  
  
Molly shook off her daze as she watched him splash water on his face and apply shaving cream. He'd let her cut it. He'd actually let her cut it.   
  
Jericho made a single pass with the razor before he caught Molly's eye in the mirror. Pausing briefly, he stepped back over to her and offered her the shaving implement. "Want to try?"  
  
She took it from him uncertainly, listening carefully to his directions. Hopefully she could do this without killing him. Scraping the blade slowly over his cheek, she exhaled in relief when she didn't draw blood. Feeling a bit more confident, she rinsed the razor off in the sink and brought it down again.   
  
His body was still but not overly tense which surprised her. Evidently he had more faith in her abilities than she did.   
  
After finishing one side of his face without doing any damage, Molly began to relax a little herself. "You're brave to let me anywhere near your throat with a blade," she said teasingly as she worked. "Considering the way I've been acting."  
  
Unable to respond while she swept the blade across his chin, Jericho snickered a little through his nose.  
  
Somehow, it helped her to express her feelings, knowing that she was armed and he was vulnerable before her. "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch lately. I can't have been easy to live with."  
  
He shifted his weight a little, but Molly couldn't tell if it was in agreement or protest. "I'm just not used to doing nothing," she explained. "I guess it's been making me moody."  
  
As she rinsed the razor off, he got a chance to respond. "I understand," he said gently, running his fingers over the side of her face and her neck. He smiled a little. "I'm just glad you're here, bitchy or not."  
  
There was no doubt in Molly's mind that his words were heartfelt. A little unsettled, she continued with her work. He protected her, tolerated her mood swings, did his best to cheer her up. Now he was sacrificing his beloved goatee just because she'd said she didn't like it. Maybe he was smothering her, but he was doing it all with the intention of making her happy.   
  
Molly's eyes strayed to the spot at the base of his neck where his pulse beat. She could do major damage in an instant, but he was completely relaxed in front of her. He trusted her, she realized for the first time. He trusted her, and she trusted him in return.   
  
Molly inhaled sharply as she did the mental arithmetic that she hadn't realized she'd been avoiding. She liked Chris. She trusted Chris. Chris made her incredibly hot. Friendship plus trust plus animal attraction equals...  
  
Oh dear God. She was in love with him.  
  
It was as though an electrical connection had suddenly been made. All of her nerves and synapses switched on and for an instant, she could feel every individual molecule of air touching her. The moment of complete awareness faded as quickly as it had come, and she resumed shaving him, hoping that he hadn't noticed her hesitation.  
  
If he had, he didn't say anything about it. Molly finished the job as briskly and efficiently as she could, all the while her inner voice was singing, 'I love Chris Jericho. I love Chris Jericho. On my God, I'm in love with Chris Jericho.'  
  
Part of her wanted to blurt it out immediately. The other, saner part of her wanted to simply run out of the room. It wasn't that she feared he'd turn on her if she told him; she knew he wouldn't even if he didn't feel the same way. But this would change everything. Once she said the words, everything would be different between them. He would possess her utterly then. She would be completely, unquestionably his. Permanently his.  
  
Jericho splashed water on his face to remove the last remnants of shaving cream. Then he ran a hand over his face and smiled brilliantly at her. "Couldn't have done a better job myself," he praised, reaching out for her.  
  
Molly pressed her lips to the smooth line of his jaw and melted into his arms. "Looks good," she managed. 'I love you. I love you. I love you.' If she told him, she'd be giving him the power to reject her, destroy her. He wouldn't. But he could. She'd be completely vulnerable. 'I love you,' she thought again as she nestled even closer to him.   
  
'But I can't tell you.' 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Three days later, Molly found herself once again at loose ends in yet another hotel room. 'I'm seeing a pattern here.' Chris had a meeting with Vince about his upcoming story line. He hadn't known how long it would last, but he'd promised to accompany her to a bookstore once he got back. Maybe she could find something else by that Pears guy to kill the next two weeks with.  
  
Situating herself in front of the mirror, she fussed with her hair, wondering if she should dye it again or maybe try a new cut. She was getting royally sick of her current, no-particular-style style. Maybe red would be a nice change...  
  
Raised voices in the hallway distracted her from her musing. It was Rico, she realized, shouting at someone. "Hey, guess who I just saw?"  
  
Vaguely curious, Molly listened in. She couldn't identify the owner of the mumble that answered Rico, but she would've bet money that it was either Rosey or Jamal. A quick peek out the peephole confirmed her guess. It was either Rosey or Jamal all right. She still couldn't tell which one was which.  
  
"Raven!" Rico continued. "He's sitting in that little cafe down the street. You remember him? He's the one who-"  
  
The voices moved off down the hallway, putting a halt to Molly's eavesdropping. Raven was in town? For what possible reason? The cafe down the street... Molly thought she remembered passing it as she and Jericho drove to the hotel. It wasn't far.  
  
She could return his book and thank him for it. He'd gone to the trouble of sending it to her, he certainly deserved to be thanked. Galvanized into action, Molly grabbed her jacket and the book. Making sure she had her keys, she darted out of the room and sprinted for the stairs.  
  
Thankfully she didn't pass anyone on her way down. She doubted that anyone would want to talk to her, but she didn't think she had any time to lose. She only hoped that Raven would still be there when she got there.  
  
She needn't have worried. Raven was only starting his meal when she spotted him, sitting in the shadow of the small building just watching the world go by. She reached him more quickly than she'd anticipated, feeling slightly foolish when he looked up at her in surprise. "Hi!" she gasped. "Um..."  
"Molly," he said simply, rising to pull out a chair for her. "Join me,"  
  
She sank into the chair gratefully, trying to get her breath back. "Hi," she said again, in a calmer tone.  
  
His lips twitched slightly, meaning that anyone else would be laughing at her. "Hello."  
  
Molly opened her mouth to say hi again, then abruptly squelched the impulse. She already sounded like an idiot. "I wanted to thank you for the book," she explained, placing it on the table. "I hope I'm not bothering you."  
  
"You couldn't possibly bother me," he told her smoothly. "I hope you're enjoying it."  
  
Flushing slightly at the compliment, she said, "I did enjoy it. I finished it a few days ago and it was absolutely wonderful. Thank you."  
  
He inclined his head. "You're welcome."  
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Now that she'd thanked him, she didn't know what else to say. Finally Raven offered, "May I get you something?"  
  
Jumping slightly, Molly replied, "Oh no, no thank you. I'm fine."  
  
He didn't press her. "I can see you're feeling better."  
  
She smiled. "Very much so."  
  
"And you're happy with Jericho?"  
  
She probably shouldn't be surprised that he knew. The footage of her accident had been replayed several times since the incident happened, and it had made her relationship with Chris public knowledge. Even so, she couldn't help wondering why he cared. "How do you know so much about me?"  
  
Raven shrugged slightly. "I keep an eye on you."  
  
Okay, that was odd. "Is that why you're here?"  
  
His faint smile was a little broader this time. "No."  
  
Obviously, if she wanted to know, she had to ask. "So why are you here?"  
  
"XPW has headquarters here," he told her easily. "I had a meeting with their CEO this morning."  
  
"I thought you were with NWA-TNA now." Briefly, she wondered if all businesses had this many sets of initials to think about.  
  
He waved a hand elegantly. "I like to keep my options open."  
  
"Ah," she replied intelligently. 'Brilliant repartee Molly. Top of the line.'  
  
Raven paid no attention to her taciturn response. "Are you happy with him?" he asked again, returning to his original question which she had ignored. He folded his hands on the table, waiting for a response.  
  
Molly considered this for a moment. Was she happy? Jericho was too... everything. Too overprotective. Too arrogant. Too exciting. Too caring. Too wonderful. He was nothing that she'd ever wanted and everything that she needed. "Yes," she answered honestly. "Yes, I'm happy. I'm in love."  
  
There. She'd admitted it out loud for the first time. She said it again, getting used to hearing the words. "I'm in love with him."  
  
Raven looked away from her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he fixed his eyes on her and said seriously, "I'm glad."  
  
"Thank you," she replied softly, not quite sure what was going on.  
  
He reached out and brushed his fingertips lightly against her cheek. "If he hurts you, I will destroy him." At that moment, Molly was positive that he meant it. His gaze flickered to her lips for a second, before returning to her eyes. "If you ever change your mind, I'll be around."  
  
Realization burst through Molly. Was this what it was all about? He'd sent her the book because he had feelings for her?  
  
"I'm glad you came," he told her. Now that she thought to look, there was something in his eyes that said she meant something to him. He stood and held out a hand to help her to her feet. "I've missed you."  
  
Without analyzing the impulse, Molly hugged him, noticing the way he tensed before tentatively wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest for a minute, then whispered, "Thank you."  
  
"It was very much my pleasure," he replied, releasing her. He retrieved the book from where she had left it on the table and handed it back to her. "Keep it."  
  
Taking the book with a smile, she repeated, "Thanks."  
  
She kept smiling during her trek back to the hotel. Raven wasn't a sociopath. Chris Jericho was a decent human being. The fans seemed to like her. She was in love. It was fast proving a month for miracles. She'd had more excitement in the last two months than she'd had in her first twenty-three years of life.  
  
Molly was practically whistling as she let herself back into the room. She'd forgotten how good it felt to just take off on a whim. Unfortunately, her good mood didn't last long.  
  
"Where the hell have you been?"  
  
Jericho's growl caught her off guard. She hadn't even thought about this possibility before she'd run off. "Chris! Hi..." 'This is so not my day for intelligent conversation.'  
  
He was in front of her instantaneously, running his hands over her arms as though checking for injuries. Seemingly satisfied that she was still in one piece, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. "Where were you?"  
  
Molly looked up into his wild eyes in wonder. Jericho was breathing heavily, and his hair was disheveled, like he'd been running his hands through it. Not giving her a chance to answer, he continued, "I looked everywhere for you! Nobody knew what happened to you. Where the hell were you?!"  
  
In the face of his panic-fueled fury, her first instinct was to wrap her arms around him and beg for forgiveness. His frantic gaze tore at her heart, and she had to reassure him. She got as far as, "I didn't mean to-" before her independent streak reared its head. She couldn't have been gone for more than an hour. Who was he to demand her whereabouts? She wasn't a child. She wasn't some helpless little thing that he had to keep an eye on twenty-four hours a day.  
  
Stepping back abruptly, Molly snapped, "I went out."  
  
Jericho raked a hand through his hair. "Yeah, no shit. Where?"  
  
"None of your business!"  
  
He exhaled gustily, staring at her in shock. Once again, Molly stifled the urge to comfort him. 'I am my own person,' she reminded herself, steeling herself against his hurt expression. 'I can't let him own me.' What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she so eager to yield to him?  
  
"Molly-" he began, but she didn't let him finish.  
  
She threw the heavy book at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. Turning on her heel, she slammed out of the room and once again ran for the stairs. There was no way she'd hit him hard enough to stop him, but maybe she'd pissed him off enough not to run after her.  
  
As she reached the bottom of the stairwell, his voice echoed to her from several floors up. "Molly, stop!"  
  
Ignoring him, she kept running, only slowing when she reached the street and managed to lose herself in the throng of people. She was safe now, she decided as she walked. She only wished she knew where she was going. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Her feet seemed to have a destination in mind so Molly let them lead. She swiped a hand impatiently across her eyes, telling herself that the tears were a product of anger. She was furious with him, she reminded herself. Angry that he behaved as though he was her master instead of her... boyfriend seemed like a rather juvenile term to use for Chris Jericho, but Molly couldn't think of anything better. She was Chris's girlfriend, not his pet.  
  
She was only slightly surprised to find herself back at the cafe. Where else was she going to go?   
  
Dropping into her former seat, she watched Raven finish laying out money for the bill before he looked up at her. "That was quick," was his only comment.  
  
"I- He-" The tears snuck up on her, and she had to cut herself off before she broke down. Sinking her teeth viciously into her lower lip, she stared down at the table, willing the anguish away.  
  
Gentle fingers played with a lock of hair that curled around her face. "What shall I do first?" he asked her in a light tone. "Deal death or ply you with sonnets extolling your virtues?"  
  
Sonnets? He *did* care about her. Maybe he'd understand. "He was furious when I got back," she explained. "He wanted to know where I was. He said he looked everywhere."  
  
Sneaking a look upwards, she saw that Raven was watching her intently, not speaking. Molly continued, "He was so worried and all I wanted to do was make him feel better. I started to apologize-"  
  
She winced at the memory, but kept talking, "But then I realized that it really wasn't any of his business. So I didn't tell him, and he looked so hurt... And then I wanted to tell him and make him feel better *again* so I ran and came back here."  
  
Raven nodded, processing her words. Finally he asked, "Are you angry because he wanted to know where you went or because you wanted to tell him?"  
  
And that was it right there. Molly sighed as the truth hit her. She'd been furious, not with Chris for smothering her, but with herself for letting him do it. Well, that explained a lot. "Why do I want to let him order me around?"  
  
"Does he?"  
  
"Yes!" Molly thought of all the long hours she'd spent wandering around hotel rooms, not wanting to worry him by going out. Then again, he never told her that she *couldn't*; he just asked her so many questions when she got back that it wasn't worth it. She hadn't wanted to panic him needlessly. "Well, no."  
  
Raven raised an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut. In the face of his silence, Molly continued thinking. There'd been the Monday after she got hurt that he'd basically locked her in their room, but that had been the only time he actually took steps to limit her movements. Oh, and the time he'd thrown her over his shoulder and hauled her away from the gym. Both of those instances had been understandable though. At least if you understood that Chris was an overprotective lunatic.  
  
"I've been doing whatever I thought he'd like, whatever would make him happiest," she said finally. "I've been living for him, not for me."  
  
He leaned back in his chair and continued to watch her think. "That's why I never wanted to fall in love," Molly concluded. "I was always afraid that it would destroy me, that I'd lose myself. And that's exactly what happened." She had to end it, she realized. She had to get away from Chris before she sacrificed any more of herself.  
  
"This has to stop."  
  
"Molly," Raven said firmly, bringing her attention back to their table. "Listen to me."  
  
He'd done an admirable job of listening to her, Molly decided to return the favor. She settled back in her chair, looking at him expectantly.  
  
"Not all love is destructive," he told her seriously. "It isn't."  
  
He smiled at her crookedly and looked down for a moment. "Look at me," he said softly. "I have loved you since the first moment I saw you."  
  
Molly gasped softly at his declaration. She'd realized that he cared about her, but love- she hadn't known how serious it was.  
  
Raven kept talking. "I have longed for you, lived for you. And it has kept me sane. In the face of all the horror and darkness, the mere thought of you is enough to keep me going. Now tell me that love is destructive."  
  
"Raven..." She couldn't believe what he'd said. Raven was always so unapproachable, so distant, so self-contained. To tell her how much he cared for her must have been a huge risk. He'd given her the power to hurt him. Reaching out, she placed her hand against his face, feeling suddenly protective of him.  
  
He covered her hand with his own, squeezing it gently. "Molly, there's nothing wrong with wanting to make someone else happy," he assured her. "Just as long as you're not making yourself miserable in the process. Are you making yourself miserable?"  
  
Molly thought about the question. She'd been jumpy and bored, but that was probably a result of the enforced rest. When she thought about Chris, she second-guessed herself constantly, but what about when she was with him? When she was with him she felt safe, cared for, content. She'd told Raven the truth earlier, she was happy.  
  
"No," she whispered finally. "No, I'm not."  
  
He smiled at her faintly and prompted, "What are you going to do?"  
  
Excellent question. What was she going to do? "I'm going to go back," she answered. There was nothing else she could do. "I'm going to apologize. And I'm going to tell him the truth."  
  
"The truth being?"  
  
"That I'm in love with him," Molly smiled. Raven had taken a risk and told her he loved her. After he'd done so, she'd wanted only to take care of him, shield him from any more pain. Taking advantage of his vulnerability was the last thing on her mind. She had to trust that it would be the same for Chris, that he would be gentle with her feelings. "I'm going to tell him I love him."  
  
"Good," Raven said softly. "I doubt you'll regret it."  
  
"I hope not," she responded, rising. Then she rethought and said more positively, "I won't."  
  
Without really thinking about it, she leaned down and pressed her lips against his in a long, chaste kiss. She could give him this, she decided. There was nothing else she could do for him, but this- this she could do.  
  
Raven gave her a bittersweet smile as she pulled away. "Thank you, Molly."  
  
She returned the smile, wishing she could do more for the man who had helped her so selflessly. "No, thank *you.*" 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Molly quietly let herself back into the hotel room, uncertain of what she would find. Would Chris even still be there? Or had she made him angry enough to leave her? She stepped more fully into the room, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light.  
  
"I'm sorry." At the sound of his voice, Molly turned her eyes to the bed where Chris lay sprawled sideways, his feet still on the floor with his arm across his face. As she got closer, he sat up and switched on the light. Looking at her seriously, he repeated, "I'm so sorry."  
  
"Chris-" His name was all Molly could choke out before the tears started. She was in his lap before she even realized she was moving, his arms holding her tightly against him.  
  
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I shouldn't have yelled. But- God, Molly- I didn't know where you were. You could've been hurt. You could've needed me, and I couldn't find you..."  
  
"It was my fault," she sniffled. "I shouldn't have run. I'm sorry."  
  
"I don't care," he said tightly. "It doesn't matter. You're back. You're safe. That's all I'm worried about."  
  
It did matter though. She needed to explain what had happened. "No, Chris listen."  
  
He hugged her tightly for a moment, then eased his grip enough that he could look at her. "Yeah?"  
  
"It wasn't because you yelled at me," she told him. "It was me, not you. I got scared."  
  
At her words, a look of horror crossed Chris's face, and he loosened his grip even more, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "Oh God, Molly, I wouldn't hurt you. I'd never hurt you, no matter what. I didn't mean to-"  
  
"Chris!" Molly cut him off. "I know that. I know you wouldn't hurt me. I wasn't scared of *you.*"  
  
He seemed to relax a little at her words, but he still looked confused. "Then what-"  
  
This was absolutely not working. Her explanation was getting hopelessly muddled and Chris wasn't helping in the slightest. Time to try something different. Molly gently pulled herself out of Chris's grasp and stood up. "Up." She beckoned him to rise as well.  
  
Chris stood, looking expectant. Molly thought for a moment, then pointed at the chair next to the room's small table. "Sit there."  
  
When he was resettled, she caught his eye. "Listen to me, Chris," she told him firmly. "I need to tell you something, and I don't want you to say anything until I'm done. Understand?"  
  
He nodded unhappily. At his look of misery, Molly softened. "I'm not mad at you," she assured him. He looked only slightly appeased.  
  
She had a feeling that the only way to get through this was to tell him the whole story. Molly put a little distance between them, took a deep breath, and began. "You've been overprotective since I got hurt, and it's been driving me nuts," she started, realizing as she said the words that she should have found a more tactful way to put that.  
  
Chris shifted, looking guilty, but he remained silent. Molly soldiered on. "I felt smothered, that's why I've been so upset with you so much. But that's not why I ran when I got back today.  
  
"I overheard Rico talking in the hallway while you were at your meeting. He said that Raven was in town, in that little cafe down the street." At the mention of Raven's name, Chris's head jerked up. Was that jealousy in his eyes?  
  
Molly continued, "I wanted to give him his book back and thank him for it. I was in a hurry when I left because I didn't want to miss him. I didn't even think about leaving you a note." She looked down. "I should have. I'm sorry about that."  
  
He nodded, acknowledging her apology.  
  
"I found him no problem, and we talked for a little while. About you mostly." She smiled at the memory. "He wanted to know if I was happy with you. I told him that I was. He said I could keep the book, that's why I still had it when I came back."  
  
She snuck a look at Chris who had a perfectly neutral expression on his face. "You were so angry when I got back. I knew it was because you were worried about me, and I wanted to make you feel better." He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, and Molly stifled an inappropriate giggle. "Then I thought about it again. I'm twenty-four years old. I've been on my own for a long time. I can take care of myself. So I decided not to tell you."  
  
Chris nodded again, showing that he was following her logic, or lack thereof. "You looked so hurt when I wouldn't tell you, that I wanted to tell you just to make everything okay again. And that pissed me off, so I threw the book at you and ran.  
  
"I ended up back at the cafe, I'm not even sure how. Raven was still there, and we got to talking again. He made me realize a few things. The first was that I wasn't really angry with you."  
  
She smiled at his look of surprise. "I know, it's hard to believe. I wasn't angry with you for smothering me. I was angry with myself for letting you do it. On some level I even enjoyed it. That scared me even more because I felt like I was... disappearing, giving myself up to you. I decided to end it, that we had to break up."  
  
Chris flinched and ran a hand through his hair, looking away from her.   
  
"Then Raven told me something else. He said that love wasn't destructive and that there's nothing wrong with wanting to make someone else happy as long as you're not making yourself miserable. Then he reminded me that I wasn't miserable, that I was happy with you. He asked me what I was going to do, and I said that I was going to come back here and try again."  
  
He looked up at her warily, faint hope dawning in his eyes.  
  
Molly bit her lip. "There's more I should tell you. Raven- he said that he's in love with me, that he has been for years. And when I left- I kissed him. To thank him."  
  
Chris closed his eyes with a sigh. Molly sat down on the edge of the bed closest to him and placed her hand on his thigh. "It was totally innocent. I just wanted to- to give him something. I wanted to do something for him because he helped me so much."  
  
In silence, he stared down at where she was touching him. "Chris?" Molly said his name nervously. "Say something."  
  
For a long moment, he did not respond. Then he said in a low voice, "I hate the thought of him touching you. Of anyone touching you."  
  
Molly winced at his tone. The kiss had been totally spontaneous. Even now, she didn't think she'd take it back. It had been a small enough thing to do for a man who'd given her hope again. However, she couldn't not tell Chris about it. He had to know. She only hoped it wouldn't cost them the relationship she'd only now decided that she truly wanted.  
  
Chris continued, "I knew he wanted you. It was never much of a secret even though you never seemed to notice. I never really thought he'd do anything about it. Do you-" He looked straight at her. "Do you have feelings for him?"  
  
Molly considered the question. "I feel grateful. I feel protective." She shook her head. "I don't feel anything romantic toward him."  
  
After taking a moment to process her words, Chris covered her hand with his own. "That's all that matters then. If he's the one who convinced you to give me another chance, I can't be angry."  
  
Molly smiled faintly, the sheen of tears in her eyes making him look blurry. "Thank you."  
  
Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed it tenderly. "So where does this leave us?" he asked.  
  
She withdrew her hand and stood, fidgeting with her hair. "I have one more thing to tell you." The final thing. The most important thing. Hopefully he'd think she'd saved the best for last.  
  
Chris exhaled noisily and sat up straighter. "All right, bring it on," he said in a falsely hearty tone, obviously expecting more tortured confessions.  
  
Not quite sure what to do with herself, Molly sat back down in her previous spot. Then she stood up again, needing the false sense of security looking down at him provided. Chris watched her in bemusement as she finally opted to hover a few feet in front of him.  
  
Molly closed her eyes and breathed deeply, fighting back an urge to hyperventilate. 'This is Chris,' she reminded herself. 'You trust Chris.' Once she felt a little more centered, she opened her eyes, catching and holding his gaze.  
  
"I love you," she said softly. Then she cleared her throat and tried again, saying in a louder, more confident voice, "I'm in love with you."  
  
Chris stared up at her, eyes wide with shock, lips slightly parted. "Oh my God," he breathed. "Oh my God, I thought you'd never say it."  
  
"Chris?" Molly asked, not certain what to make of his reaction. Anything else she might have said was lost when he surged out of his seat and pulled her into an embrace, his mouth covering hers urgently.  
  
"I was being patient," he told her after their lips parted. "Doing the courtship thing, trying not to scare you off. It's been driving me nuts, Molly. I'm not good at being patient."  
  
Molly threaded her fingers through his ponytail. Was that a good thing or a bad one? What was he saying?  
  
"I just wanted to grab you, hold onto you any way I could," he continued. "I was afraid to let you out of my sight. I tried so hard to get you to like me, but nothing was working."  
  
"Chris..."   
  
He kissed her again. "I think I surprised myself by how fast I fell for you. You were fighting me off at every turn and all I could think was that one day you wouldn't want to fight me anymore. And I couldn't wait for that day to come."  
  
"And now it did," she whispered, not quite able to believe what he was saying.  
  
"Thank God," he smiled crookedly, than slid his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes. "I love you, Molly. I know I've been overprotective, and I'm sorry, but you're the only thing I've ever had that's worth protecting, the only thing in my life that means anything."  
  
Molly didn't realize that she was crying until she felt him cradle her face; his thumbs brushing her tears away. "Shhhhh..." he whispered against her lips. "Don't cry, baby."  
  
She sniffled, trying to oblige him, then said in wonder, "You love me."  
  
"I love you," he confirmed softly. "I think I have right from the start, definitely since the day you kicked me. You were always so prickly, and I was obsessed with finding out what you were really like. Turns out you're even more incredible than I imagined."  
  
"I'm sorry I did that," Molly told him, remembering that day.  
  
Chris sat down on the bed and pulled her into his lap. "I wasn't real happy about it. Not so much because you kicked me, but because it seemed like a pretty clear sign that you didn't want me. Women don't usually try to emasculate men they like."  
  
She bit her lip, fighting back a giggle at his choice of words. She'd always known she was abnormal. Good thing he seemed to like that about her.  
  
"I kind of lost all hope there for awhile," he continued. "I wasn't going to force myself on you if you couldn't stand me. Then I saw you letting Richards touch you, and I saw red. I was so jealous."  
  
"I didn't want him to," Molly assured him. "I just didn't want to alienate Victoria by lashing out at him."  
  
Chris nodded slightly. "I understand. You're lucky I only punched him. I wanted to kill him." He smiled. "But then you kissed me back, and it didn't matter so much."  
  
Molly turned in his arms, straddling him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you," she told him again, finally able to say the words without fear. She leaned up and kissed him, rewarding him for his honesty.  
  
She smiled at she felt his lips moving against hers, repeating the words, "I love you." In the end, it hadn't been so hard after all. A little violence, a lot of shouting, then happily ever after. Well probably. She pulled back slightly and warned him, "I'm always going to be prickly."  
  
He nodded. "I can live with that. I'm always going to be jealous and overprotective."  
  
"We'll cope."  
  
Placing her hands on his shoulders, Molly pushed Chris back until he was lying flat on the bed. Much better. She pressed her hips down, loving the way he immediately hardened against her. "I want you," she murmured against his lips.  
  
Chris groaned at her words, sweeping his hands over her back. "I want you more."  
  
"Prove it." Sliding her hands beneath his shirt, Molly caressed his chest, hoping to encourage him to take the encounter farther. She wanted Chris, had always wanted Chris, but knowing that he loved her made everything feel a thousand times more intense.  
  
"Oh God, Molly..." he moaned. "Don't tempt me, baby. There's nothing I want more, but we can't."  
  
She took his face in her hands and held him still, looking straight into his eyes. "It's been a month. I feel fine. We can do this."  
  
He brushed a baby soft kiss against her lips. "The doctor said six weeks. I don't want to hurt you."  
  
Feeling as though she was going to scream from frustration, Molly insisted, "I'm fine! You won't hurt me." Her voice dropped as she continued, "Don't make me beg. I will if you want me to, but please don't make me."  
  
He whimpered her name, mouth finding hers in a passionate kiss. "I don't want you to beg," he told her. Then he smiled faintly. "Not this time anyway."  
  
Somewhat appeased, Molly arched her body against his. "Then touch me."  
  
"I want to," he ran his fingers tenderly over her neck and down her arm. "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed about this."  
  
Placing kisses against his jaw, she murmured, "Oh I think I do."  
  
He moaned again at her words, his tongue tracing her lips teasingly. "I'm not sure if we-"  
  
"Dammit Chris!" Protectiveness was nice, but this was taking it much too far. He was definitely trying to drive her crazy. "I'm throwing myself at you here."  
  
He slid his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp soothingly. "I know you are, and it's better than I ever imagined it, but..."   
  
He trailed off and Molly looked up at him expectantly. "But what?"  
  
"Hang on," he said shakily, rolling her off of him. "I've got an idea."  
  
Molly smoothed her hair back and sat up, wondering what he was planning. As she watched, Chris retrieved his cell phone from the bedside table, then fumbled through his wallet until he located a small piece of paper. "What are you doing?"  
  
He held up a hand, indicating her to wait as he dialed a number. "Could I speak with Dr. Grufield please? Yeah, I'll hold."  
  
He wanted to talk to the doctor who'd treated her while she was in the hospital? Okay. Molly raised her eyebrows, curious about what he was up to. What on earth was going on?  
  
Eventually, the doctor must have picked up the call because Chris started talking again. "Hi, this is Chris Jericho calling. Molly Holly's husband." He paused, then answered, "Yeah, the one who tried to hit you."  
  
Molly giggled, remembering her disbelief when he'd told her that story the first time. Panicked spouse. Indeed.  
  
"Anyway, I had a question. You said that Molly couldn't wrestle for six weeks, and she had to limit her physical activities in the meantime. It's been four weeks and I was wondering if that included... um..." Chris drummed his fingers on the bed, obviously uncomfortable. "You know- marital activities."  
  
She slapped a hand over her mouth, fighting back laughter as Chris flushed, listening to the doctor's reply. After a moment he responded, "Yes, I understand... I will... Thank you very much."   
  
As he hung the phone up in relief, Molly stopped fighting. She fell back onto the bed laughing hysterically. She should probably be embarrassed but the look on Chris's face.... The memory set her off on another spasm.  
  
Chris deposited the phone back on the night stand and moved to sit next to her, leaning back against the headboard. He looked down at her tolerantly as Molly continued to laugh. Finally she managed to gain some semblance of control over herself and wiped her streaming eyes, taking a few deep breaths to finish calming herself. Once she felt like she could talk again, she rolled over and looked up at Chris.  
  
"You called the doctor to get permission to have sex with me?" she asked in amused disbelief.  
  
Chris shook his head and said seriously, "No. I called the doctor to get permission to make love to you." 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Molly ran a hand over his face, unspeakably touched by the distinction. "Chris..."  
  
"I love you, Molly," he told her again. "That's what I want this to be about. I want to show you how much I need you."  
  
His words made her tremble, and there was nothing else to do but sit up and kiss him again. He let her lead for long moments, then gradually took control, leisurely exploring her mouth.   
  
Molly stroked her fingers through his hair, then pulled back slightly, ending the kiss. Chris blinked at her in confused dismay, and she smiled. Giving his ponytail a light tug, she softly ordered, "Leave it loose."  
  
Obediently, his hands went to the elastic band that held his hair back. He fumbled with it for a time, finally breaking the elastic in frustration. Tossing the broken band aside, he quickly ran his fingers through the heavy strands, freeing the mane to fall about his shoulders. "Better?"  
  
"Much," Molly purred, running her fingers through the tangled strands so that they framed his face. "You look so sexy with it down."  
  
Jericho growled softly at her words, his lips immediately finding the sensitive patch of skin just underneath her ear. He sucked at the spot as his hand went to her breast, cupping its fullness. He detached his lips from her skin long enough to mutter, "Talk to me, Molly."  
  
Talk to him? Did he mean that he wanted her to talk dirty or... She took a breath and hesitated, "You're not the only one who's dreamed about this."  
  
Chris made a breathy noise that might have been a moan and began to nibble at her skin. Emboldened, Molly kept talking, "All you have to do is look at me and I feel all fluttery. Your eyes get dark, and you look at me like you want-" A long swipe of his tongue made her voice falter. "-want to eat me alive."  
  
"I do," he murmured, lips never leaving her skin. "So sweet. I could kiss you forever." Sliding a hand beneath her shirt, his finger found her nipple, teasing her through her bra.  
  
"Chris!" Molly hands fisted in her hair. By all rights, she should be hurting him, but he didn't seem to care. "Please."  
  
As though he'd been waiting for that plea, Chris's hands went to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Looking down at her, he watched her skin grow flushed as he traced a finger lightly along the edge of her bra.  
  
"Please," Molly whimpered again, needing his hands on her bare skin. She collapsed back against the headboard as he unfastened her bra, drawing it down her arms.  
  
He did nothing but stare at her for what seemed like hours. Molly kept her eyes closed tightly, both aroused and embarrassed by his close scrutiny. At his sigh, "Oh God, Molly..." she opened her eyes tentatively, nearly moaning at the look on his face.  
  
"You're so gorgeous," he whispered, his awed tone matching his rapt expression. Gentle fingers ghosted across her skin as he continued to talk to her. "So soft and sweet. So perfect."  
  
With a fingertip, he traced a tiny circle around her nipple. "Just begging for me to kiss you."  
  
She did moan at that. "Oh yes, please."  
  
Before the plea was out of her mouth, his lips were on her, suckling at the tip of one breast before moving to the other. He repeated the pattern, flicking his tongue against the sensitive buds until she was gasping his name. He pulled back, cupping her breasts and lifting them slightly so that he could nuzzle the curved undersides.   
  
"Chris!"  
  
He lapped at her ravenously, sweeping his tongue over every millimeter of exposed flesh. Returning to her nipples, he gave the tiny buds gentle scrapes with his teeth, smiling as they hardened even more for him.  
  
The sensual assault left her lying limply against the pillows, aware of nothing more than his mouth against her skin. She blinked dazedly when he pulled away from her, wrenching his shirt over his head.  
  
"Molly, touch me," he pleaded, catching her hands in his and placing them against his chest. "Please touch me. Like you did before."  
  
She stroked his skin, lovingly scratching her nails against his flat nipples. He groaned loudly at the action, and she smiled to herself. She hadn't forgotten how much he liked this. If he liked this, then maybe... Molly leaned over to press her lips to his chest, laving her tongue against his flesh and slowly making her way to one of the hard buds. She flicked her tongue against it, relishing his moan, then nibbled gently.  
  
Jericho's response was immediate and electrifying. A groan so loud that it was nearly a howl tore out of his throat. His fingers slid into her hair, holding her tightly against him, his request clear- don't stop.  
  
Molly had no intention of stopping. She lavished attention first on one nipple then the other, lapping at him until he could do nothing more than gasp at the sensation. She was so caught up in the sounds that he was making that she didn't notice his hands moving until they came to rest on the waistband of her jeans.   
  
He ran his fingers over her fly, choking out a sentence that was half plea, half demand, "Let me look at you."  
  
"You first," she whispered back, hoping that his stripping would buy her enough time to get her breathing back under control.  
  
She wasn't overly surprised when it didn't. Chris unbuttoned his own jeans quickly and pushed them down over his legs, removing his boxers at the same time. He ran into a bit of trouble until he remembered that he was still wearing shoes. Shooting her a rueful look, he quickly toed them off and yanked off his socks, naked before her at last.   
  
Molly wasn't sure how long she simply stared at him, eyes wide, breath forgotten. Magnificent was the only word that came to mind. The strong lines and angles of his body were bared for her, and her fingers itched to touch him. She ran her fingers lightly over his neck, and he allowed the touch briefly before catching her hand in his. "You. Please, you."  
  
Licking her lips, she nodded nervously. She really wasn't sure why she felt so jittery about this. After all, he had seen her naked before. However, this moment somehow felt even more real than their last encounter had. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at her so intently, obviously intending to look at all of her as closely as he had admired her breasts. She nervously fumbled with the button fly of her jeans until his fingers covered hers.  
  
"Let me?" he asked her huskily, and she quickly acquiesced.   
  
Instead of continuing to undo her, Jericho crawled off of the bed to kneel on the floor near her feet. Slowly, he unlaced her sandals, pulling each off and tossing them over his shoulder. Once her feet were bare, he took one in his hands and placed a trail of kisses along her instep.   
  
Molly had never considered her feet to be an erogenous zone, but Chris was showing her how wrong she'd been. When he wrapped his lips around her big toe and began to suck, she gave up on thinking all together.   
  
By the time he had repeated the process on her other foot, Molly was far beyond being embarrassed about anything. She lifted her hips for him shamelessly, helping him to draw her jeans and panties down her legs, leaving her bared to his eyes.  
  
He swept his gaze over her, his ardent expression making her blush. "Molly," he breathed, leaning down to brush a reverent kiss against her lips. She slid her fingers into his hair, keeping him close and deepening the kiss. As he explored her mouth, Chris carefully lowered himself onto her, skin to skin at last.  
  
They both moaned at the contact, his hardness melding into her softness. Molly arched beneath him instinctively, wanting him even closer. In response, Chris pressed his hips down, his erection throbbing against her thigh. Their panting breaths mingled as he began to rub himself against her before pulling back as though burnt.  
  
"Shit! Sorry," he gasped, angling himself away from her. "Got a little carried away. I still want to- to-" His sentence floundered off, making her smile. She'd never imagined Chris Jericho at a loss for words. He began kissing her collarbone, letting his actions do the talking for him.  
  
"You wanna be inside me, Chris?" she drawled, inwardly amazed at the sultry tone of her voice. She wasn't even blushing, she was shocked to realize.  
  
He gasped sharply at her question, sinking his teeth into her flesh. He released her almost immediately, running his tongue apologetically over the spot, but Molly hadn't even registered the pain. "Do you?" she asked again.  
  
"You know I do," he groaned, voice so breathless that she had to strain to understand him. "You know I'd do anything- oh God, Molly..."  
  
"Chris..." she purred, running her hands through his hair. Then, getting a good grip, she pulled him away from her. "Not yet, baby," she whispered wickedly, wanting to tease him just a little bit more. Looking shocked, he let her push him off of her until he was stretched flat on the bed.  
  
Rising to her knees, Molly looked down at him, smiling at his expression, equal parts amazement and lust. She leaned down and kissed him hard, enjoying the feeling of being the one in control. Trailing her hands over his chest, she memorized the contours of his body. She worked her way down over his flat stomach, bypassing the part of him that was straining for her touch, and over the strong muscles of his legs, learning that he liked it when she was a little bit rough, when she scratched instead of just stroking. Running her hands up over his narrow hips, Molly leaned a little closer to the one area of his body she had not yet examined.  
  
His erection was darkly flushed and looked almost painfully rigid. It twitched a bit underneath her close gaze, inviting her touch. She stroked her fingers over him hesitantly, learning his feel. The skin was softer than she had expected, overlaying a steely hardness. She wrapped her hand around his erection and squeezed lightly, jumping when he pulsed in her hand. Intrigued, she squeezed again, smiling to herself when Chris's breathing became ragged. She ran her hand up and down his length, swirling her fingers in the moisture she found pooling at the tip.   
  
Chris groaned loudly at her action, voice breaking as he pleaded, "Harder. God, please do it harder."  
  
Not entirely sure what he meant, Molly tightened her grip on him and began stroking faster. "Like this?"  
  
The look on his face answered her question. Chris's head was thrown back, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in what looked like a grimace of agony. Only his constant low moans of pleasure assured Molly that she wasn't hurting him. "Just like that," he panted. "Oh, that's perfect."  
  
Molly smiled to herself at the way he was reacting to her. His back was arched, pushing himself harder into her grasp as he groaned. 'Not bad for my first try.' She looked down at the flesh she held in her hand. The tip of his erection was weeping copiously, and she was suddenly curious. She'd heard about this act but never imagined trying it. Now she couldn't help but wonder what he would taste like.  
  
Ducking her head, she ran her tongue against the tip, gathering up the droplets. Chris's shout, "Oh God!" distracted her from analyzing the salty flavor, and she glanced up at him. He'd gone up on his elbows, wild eyes staring at her in wonder. Molly's breath caught at his flushed face and disheveled hair, prompting her to repeat her action.   
  
He grunted wordlessly, then started moaning as she wrapped her lips around the plush head of his erection and sucked tentatively. "Oh God... Oh God... Oh Jesus, Molly..."  
  
Pleased that she could do this to him, that she could make him lose control like this, Molly sucked harder, enjoying the way his entire body seemed to spasm beneath her hands. Suddenly the tenor of his moans changed, taking on an almost panicked edge as he gasped, "Oh God, stop, stop. Molly, you've gotta stop."  
  
Convinced that she'd managed to injure him, Molly released him immediately, sitting back on her heels in chagrin. Chris writhed for a moment, then reached down and wrapped a hand around the base of his erection, squeezing viciously. There was relief in his pained gasp as he seemed to calm down a little.  
  
She didn't have time to feel guilty as Chris grabbed her and rolled her underneath him, kissing her deeply. His tongue swept against hers, and he moaned at the taste of himself in her mouth. Pulling away, he brought his mouth to her ear, muttering thickly, "Sorry baby, but you make me so hot. I almost lost it. I don't want this to be over yet."  
  
As his words processed, Molly blinked in surprise, realizing that far from not pleasing him, she had pleased him too much. Feeling suddenly powerful, she arched her body beneath his, rubbing against him sensuously.  
  
Chris growled at her movement, grabbing her hips to still her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth again, kissing her senseless as punishment for teasing him. Unrepentant, Molly repeated the movement, reveling in his groan.   
  
He sank his teeth gently into her earlobe, tugging slightly. Molly gasped at the unexpectedly erotic pulse that swept through her, stilling. Once he had gained her compliance, Chris ran his tongue around the whorls of her ear, making her moan. "Let me do you," he whispered huskily. "I wanna taste you so bad. Can I, Molly?"  
  
Instinctively, Molly pressed her thighs together, unsure. He couldn't really want to kiss her *there,* could he? She'd heard the jokes and stories; it couldn't possibly be pleasant for him. Wouldn't it be disgusting?  
  
Sensing her hesitation, Chris kept talking, "Please let me, Molly. Please. I wanna do it to you so much. I've dreamed about it. I need to taste you."  
  
Molly moaned at his words, still uncertain, "Chris..."  
  
He began placing tiny, hot kisses on her neck, interspersed with fervent words, "Please, Molly. I need to show you how much I want you. Please let me. Please."  
  
"I... I don't..." Inwardly, Molly was writhing in indecision. Chris certainly sounded like he wanted to do it, but she couldn't quite adjust to the idea of somebody being that close to that part of her. "I..."  
  
"Okay, okay," he whispered to her, caressing her face to soothe her distress. "We'll start slow, go slow. I'll stop if you tell me to."  
  
Molly nodded slightly, stammering, "O-okay."  
  
He did nothing but kiss her for long moments, reminding her how much she wanted him, how good they were together. As he explored her mouth, his hand stole to her breast, teasing her nipple back into hardness. Molly moaned softly into his mouth, and she could feel his smile. He played with the tiny bud as they shared another long, slow kiss. When it ended, he moved to kiss her ear, whispering, "I love how you respond to me. The way you move and the little noises you make... Sometimes I think I'll go crazy just touching you."  
  
He ran the back of his hand against the valley between her breasts, then stroked his fingers over her stomach. After pausing to explore her belly button, he moved inexorably downward, sliding his hand over her hip and down one of her legs. Molly shifted, purring happily, and wrapped her leg around his, caressing his calf with her bare foot.   
  
Chris rewarded her with several more long strokes before working his way back up. He kissed her again, distracting her as he slid his fingers into the nest of curls between her legs. She whimpered as he ghosted his fingers over her folds, not yet pressing, not invading.   
  
"Shhhh," he breathed. "I won't hurt you."  
  
Molly knew that he wouldn't; she had no fear of that. Forcing herself to relax, she parted her legs more, granting him better access. He stroked her for a few moments, then pressed a little deeper, gradually insinuating his fingers between her folds. Molly gasped at the touch, and he began nuzzling her neck, murmuring to her, "God, you're so hot, so wet for me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"  
  
Molly bit her lip and shook her head nervously as he began to slowly explore her most private area. She felt... tingly, somehow, and it was becoming hard to catch her breath. Her whole body jerked as he brushed his fingers against the incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves hidden between her legs.  
  
"It makes me wild," he continued, deliberately touching her there again. "It makes me crazy to know how much you want me, to know that I made you feel like this. I'm the luckiest son of a bitch in the world because you want me, you love me. I wanna tell everyone."  
  
"Oh God, Chris..." she panted, as aroused by his words as she was by his touch.   
  
"Molly..." He nudged her chin with his nose, encouraging her to look up at him. When she did, he sighed as he slowly slid two fingers inside her. "Oh Molly..."  
  
It was strange at first, invasive. Then, as he slowly began to move his fingers, it started to feel so very good. After that, Molly lost track of what exactly he was doing to her, knowing only that it was absolutely wonderful. He sucked at her nipples as he continued to move his fingers, arousing her further. As he started to kiss his way down her body, Molly was too lost in sensation to protest.  
  
At the first swipe of his tongue against her, Chris moaned as loudly as Molly did. She blushed, but the sheer bliss coursing through her body made it impossible to stay embarrassed for long. She'd thought his fingers felt good, but this... this was amazing. She was climaxing before she knew what was happening, and he continued to lap at her, showing no inclination to leave his position.   
  
The one tiny corner of Molly's mind that wasn't otherwise occupied idly pointed out, "He really is the King of the World," making her laugh uncontrollably through her second orgasm. Chris raised his head at the reaction, and Molly tugged him up to her, kissing him in between her giggles. The taste of herself on his lips was shockingly erotic, causing her laughter to die away almost at once. "You're incredible," she said softly.  
  
"I love you," he whispered in return. He kissed the tip of her nose and said, "Thank you. Thank you for letting me do that for you. I've been dying to."  
  
She finally believed his words, that he had enjoyed it as much as she had. All she could manage to say was his name as she pulled him close for another kiss. The movement brought his erection into contact with her hip, reminding her that they weren't finished yet. It was time.  
  
"Chris..." she whispered again, and reached down to stroke his hard flesh. "Please."  
  
He jerked reflexively into her hand before sinking his teeth into his bottom lip in an effort to control himself. Cradling her face, he looked deeply into her eyes, "Are you sure?"  
  
His thumbs stroked her jaw as Molly nodded slightly. "I'm sure. I want you."  
  
He sighed her name and pressed his lips to hers in a long caress. When he raised his head, his brow was furrowed, as though he was thinking hard. After a moment, he rolled off of her and sat up, leaning back against the headboard.   
  
"Come here," he motioned her to join him, encouraging her to place her legs on either side of his so that she was straddling him. Molly blinked in confusion; she'd expected him to take charge of this.  
  
"I want this to be easy for you," he murmured, stroking her hair off of her face. "I wish it didn't have to hurt, but you can go as slow as you need to, do whatever you need to."  
  
Molly nodded nervously, understanding. She'd never pictured it like this, but he did make a good argument. She was about to lose her virginity. No. She wasn't losing it. She was giving it to the man she loved. It was her gift, her choice. Chris already owned her heart, now he would own her body as well. She was surprised to realize that the thought didn't frighten her anymore.  
  
"I love you," she whispered, as she took him in hand, positioning herself above him. His hands went to her hips, helping to steady her as she took an unsteady breath. Their eyes locked as he whispered the words back to her.  
  
Forcing her muscles to relax, Molly slowly lowered herself onto him. She was slightly shocked by how easily the head slipped inside. Even more exciting was the harsh gasp that escaped Chris as he sank into her tight heat. His hands tightened on her hips as he hissed her name, "Molly..."  
  
More confident now, Molly relaxed more and allowed herself to slide down a little more, taking another inch of him into herself. She didn't think she could have looked away from Chris's eyes to save her life. His pupils were dilated so much that only silvers of blue showed around the black. He looked almost... feral.  
  
Instinctively, she pressed herself farther down, brow furrowing as his girth stretched her uncomfortably. The burning sensation wasn't pleasant, but she refused to stop now. Taking a deep breath she thrust herself down again, enveloping a few more inches of him. There was pain now as unused muscles stretched to accommodate him. Molly bit down on her lower lip, refusing to let herself whimper.  
  
Chris made the noise for her, reaching up to caress her face with unsteady fingers. Aching desire was still written in his eyes, overlaid with pain at the knowledge he was hurting her. He caught her wrists, encouraging her to dig her fingers into his biceps. "Hurt me, Molly. Anything that you need."  
  
Molly blew out the pain on a long breath and gritted her teeth. Slow and easy wasn't cutting it. Time to try something else. Not giving herself time to think about it, she thrust herself completely down, forcing him all the way inside her. Chris cried out in shocked ecstasy, arching beneath her uncontrollably. Molly dug her nails into his arms, nearly breaking the skin, as she moaned at the bright shock of pain.  
  
"Molly... Molly..." he whispered her name frantically and ran his hands soothingly up her back, pulling her tightly against his chest. His arms went around her, holding her close and rocking her slightly as he continued to murmur to her, "I'm sorry baby... God, I'm so sorry... I love you so much... Oh Molly..."  
  
She buried her face in his neck and focused on just breathing. This was her first time with Chris, and it was going to be beautiful and special. She was not going to cry. After a few minutes of concentrated effort her muscles started to relax, and the pain began to fade away. She shifted tentatively, pleased when it didn't hurt. She was even more pleased by the little moan that escaped Chris at her movement.  
  
Taking a final deep breath she lifted her head and smiled at Chris. "I'm okay," she said softly, hoping to erase the look of guilt on his face.   
  
He reached up to stroke her hair off her forehead, fussing over her. "I'm so sorry," he repeated.  
  
Cradling his face, she leaned forward and kissed him deeply, moaning as the movement pressed him into her more deeply. 'So this is what all the fuss is about.' She rocked her hips slightly as his tongue slid into her mouth, squirming happily as little jolts of pleasure started shooting through her body. She pulled back long enough to whisper his name, causing him to look up at her.  
  
Chris smiled slowly as he saw the pleasure in her eyes and gently thrust up, moving in counterpoint to her. "That's it, Molly. You feel so good... soooo good." He slid his hands back down to her hips, helping her to set up a rhythm.  
  
For her part, Molly was astounded that something that only minutes earlier had hurt terribly, now felt indescribably wonderful. She opened her mouth to comment on it, but could manage only a moan. 'I suppose we can talk later.' Instinctively she started moving a little faster, surprising a ragged groan out of Chris. He thrust up to meet her, their gentle pace becoming more demanding.  
  
Faster now, and harder. Chris's hands pulled her down more firmly, allowing him to sink more deeply into her. Molly braced herself on his shoulders, her breasts pressing against his chest, as their hot breath mingled. The room suddenly felt far warmer as perspiration beaded along her hairline. She trailed her fingers through the droplets that gleamed on his flushed shoulders, moaning sharply as the change of angle brought his erection into contact with something inside her that made the universe shake.  
  
Desperation suddenly, their pace becoming frantic. Chris wrapped an arm around her waist, continuing to guide her as he slid his other hand between her legs, finding the spot he had lavished attention on earlier. His mouth came down on hers, swallowing her scream as the pleasure spiraled out of control, becoming incandescent, so hot and bright that her body could no longer contain it.  
  
Chris's voice broke on her name, and it was definitely a howl this time as she felt his release deep inside of her. She fell forward, drained of all energy, lazily lapping at the sweat that was gathered on his collarbone. She blinked dazedly as she realized that her teeth were chattering. Beneath her body, Chris's chest heaved as he struggled for breath, still moaning faintly. Molly wondered if her weight was a hindrance and moved to slide off of him, only to be brought up short by Chris's arms tightening around her, refusing to let her move. "Not yet, baby. Please."  
  
Eventually the tremors faded, leaving Molly with a feeling of utter peace that even the feel of Chris softening enough to slip out of her couldn't disturb. He stroked her hair gently and kissed her forehead, whispering softly, "Still love me?"  
  
Somehow she found enough strength to lift her head and look into his surprisingly serious eyes. She traced her hand along his jaw line and whispered back, "More than anything."  
  
"I hurt you," he said guiltily.  
  
So that was what this was about. She smiled softly and responded, "Yeah, but it got better. It was incredible, Chris. I wouldn't change a thing."  
  
Seemingly satisfied with her response, he finally smiled back. "Neither would I. I've never felt the way you make me feel, Molly. Never. You tie me up in knots and make me feel invincible all at the same time. I need you. More than I even thought I could need anybody, I need you."  
  
"You have me," she promised. "No matter what, you have me, Chris. I love you."  
  
Maneuvering them so that they were lying beneath the covers, Chris pulled her close so that her head rested on his chest. "I love you too, Molly," he murmured, stroking her hair. "We're going to be so happy."  
  
Molly draped an arm over his body, smiling sleepily. "We already are."  
  
End  
  
Author's Note: I want to thank all the reviewers who've stuck with me over the course of this story. Reading your comments really inspired me to keep going, especially after this became more of an epic than I originally intended. So, big shout out to: Carrie, Angelscribe, victoriafan882003, bunny, Y2J's Princess, Sara Blaze, bannonluke, Lady Neptune, angiep, Esquirella, skittle-xtreme, Takersgurl35, mysticalfem, Princess Rachel, BrokenPromises, Nini, Mayghan Jayd, stippybrea, jetderk1462, meozie, Ocy, Azreail, DreamLover684, Black-Abyss, FromtheDark, Drina, Fire, and Karly. I really hope I didn't forget anyone. I hope you had as much fun reading this story as I did writing it. 


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